


Someone Else's War

by Scouts_Mockingbird



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Bad Puns, But with Super powers this time, Dystopian-ish AU, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, POV Multiple, Sci-Fi AU, Slow Burn, Teenaged Angst Bullshit, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-23 18:23:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 78,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13793514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scouts_Mockingbird/pseuds/Scouts_Mockingbird
Summary: Veronica Sawyer is an exception— a person born with special abilities— so she is sent to Westerburg Academy to train to become a sentinel, like all exceptions.  She goes reluctantly, having no desire to fight and die for a state that took her right to choose her path.  While there, she meets handsome, dangerous rebel JD, who attempts to recruit her as a spy.With nothing to lose and their freedom to gain, Veronica and JD finds themselves embroiled in a conflict that goes far deeper than they could have imagined, and they are the only two with any hope of stopping it.





	1. Westerburg Academy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been thinking about this for weeks (as anyone who follows me on Tumblr knows) but I finally settled in and actually wrote the first chapter. Because I'm splitting my time between this, Saving Ourselves, and my real life, I may not update this very frequently, but I wanted to give you all a taste of what this AU will be. Enjoy!

“Westerburg Academy has long been one of highest ranking facilities on the continent. You should all be very proud to attend.” Sentinel Fleming was gesturing grandly to the building behind her.

The sight of it turned Veronica’s stomach, and she snorted under her breath. _Academy? More like prison._ She looked around at her fellow ‘students’ who were all clustered together with eager expressions on their faces. They were far more fooled by Fleming’s words than Veronica was. But then, words had never really fooled Veronica.

Gazing up that the so-called school, Veronica wondered if she could conceal it somehow. A large scale illusion was difficult, and she’d hardly practiced them, but the idea of pulling a little prank on all these human sheep was enough to make her smile. The first smile she’d had since turning eighteen.

The first time she’d smiled since being dragged away from her parents to be a super powered slave to the state.

She took a deep breath, calming both her nerves and her anger. There was no point in being mad about it. This was the way the world worked. Everyone born with powers ended up at an academy like Westerburg where they would be trained and placed in some form of security, military, or police position. Veronica hoped she could be put on clerical duty. She didn’t want to fight the state’s wars, and the only way to avoid that would be joining the exception rebels who lived on the edges of the city, hiding from the state so they didn’t have to fight.

Veronica pushed the thought away; the rebellion was something only fully qualified sentinels dealt with, and Veronica had years before she reached that, if she ever made it that far.

Fleming led them all inside, through halls that were made of chrome and concrete, bustling with students all dying to see the newcomers. Veronica didn’t look at them.

Eventually, the group ended up in what Veronica assumed was their destination: the dormitories. They were empty and gray, separated into cubicles for privacy, though there was no room for personality in them.

Fleming cleared her throat to call their attention. “You’ll be staying in here for now. Some of you may be moved after your assignments, which you will learn tonight. You will each be placed into groups of four or five following the introduction ceremony—Yes?” She turned to face the student who’d raised a tentative hand.

“Um, how will we be placed?”

The other students all began to whisper among themselves. Veronica rolled her eyes and didn’t join in any conversations. To her, it seemed obvious how they’d be placed. All their powers had been tested and recorded before they ever came near Westerburg.

Fleming sighed, disappointed by the dull question. “You will be sorted based on abilities. Each of you has something unique to bring to a team, and you will be grouped so that your strengths support your friends’ weaknesses.” She smiled, though Veronica didn’t believe her sickly sweet tone.

What powers would compliment her illusions? There would probably be a physically strong member, someone who could hit. Glancing around, there were a handful of boys who seemed like they might have had more than the usual physical prowess, but Veronica wasn’t about to go ask.

Like most powered individuals, Veronica was already stronger and faster than an ordinary, but some exceptions were stronger than ten people, or could block out pain enough to make themselves almost unnaturally strong. Still, she was no fighter. Her powers leant themselves well to pranks, hiding, and the occasional attempt at showing off. To amuse herself, she drew up a dragon, small enough to sit in the palm of her hand.

It felt like years ago— though it had only been months— when she’d made just such a dragon to make Betty Finn laugh. Betty was one of the rare ordinaries who didn’t mind exceptions—the common slang term for people with powers— and she even thought Veronica’s abilities were cool.

The sadness attached to the memory took away whatever comfort Veronica might have found in her illusion so she closed her fist and snuffed it out. No one had noticed it. That was good. Veronica hoped to never have her powers examined too closely. She was afraid of what they might see.

With no more questions to answer, Fleming left them to their own devices in the dormitories and they all settled in to wait for the ceremony. Most of them clustered with people they knew from their hometowns, but Veronica avoided any of the barely familiar faces she saw. She sat alone, apart from everyone as they babbled excitedly about becoming heroes and fighting rebel terrorists.

* * *

“Dean!”

JD immediately regretted taking the shortcut through the practice rooms. They were always packed with new recruits, nervous and trying to prove themselves. One such asshole seemed to want his attention.  

He wasn’t in the mood, and attempted to keep walking.

“Dean, where the fuck do you think you’re going? I’m talking to you!” The new recruit—JD never bothered to learn their names, most of them died or deserted after a couple months at most—was muscular, with a wide face that had a naturally irritable expression, amplified by his anger.

“What do you want?” He didn’t quite manage to hold in his frustrated sigh. He just wanted to retreat to his quarters. It was too damn cold down here.

The guy struck some kind of power pose, as if he expected JD to be intimidated. “I want to spar.”

Of course he did. “No,” JD replied flatly and turned to go.

“What? Are you afraid you can’t keep up without daddy’s special treatment?”

JD snorted. “Right. _Special.”_ Walking away was tempting, but he knew he’d hear shit from Bud later if it got back to him that JD had backed down from a challenge.

He turned around and walked right past the guy, vaulting easily into the sparring ring. “I’ve got shit to do so let’s get this over with.” He shrugged out of his coat and left it in the corner of the ring.

Smiling, the recruit climbed into the ring. JD noticed his complete lack of grace and the stiffness of his movements. This was the kind of guy who built himself for strength and nothing else. Getting hit by him would hurt, but he’d have to catch JD first.

“Think you can do it without powers?” The recruit smirked.

JD almost laughed in his face. He never used his powers in a sparring match. There was no point and it was too risky. These fights were just training, after all. “Sure. No powers.” JD held his hand out to shake on it.

The other guy ignored it, opting to throw a punch instead. Despite the dirty trick, the hit didn’t land. JD ducked under his opponent’s arm and shoved his foot out to trip him up. It worked, though not as well as JD would have hoped. The recruit staggered back but didn’t fall. JD used the time to regroup, gauging his opponent’s tactics.

From what JD could tell, the other guy was all fists and muscle, no finesse. He used his body like a battering ram, trying to knock JD to the ground with nothing but sheer force.

It was useless. JD had far too much training for that shit to work, and he had the advantage of being faster and more agile than his opponent. Unable to resist a taunt, JD smiled. “I’m going to win in two hits.”

“Fuck you,” The other guy growled, slightly out of breath from all of JD’s moving around the ring. He lunged again, throwing a hard punch at JD’s stomach.

Sidestepping again, JD dodged the blow so it glanced off his side and drew him out a little more. He let his eyes shift over to the corner, as if something there had caught his attention. Like an idiot, the guy took the bait, turning his whole head to see what JD was looking at.

JD punched him in the face while he was looking away. He staggered back, but the blow seemed to annoy him more than anything. JD threw an experimental kick towards his kidneys and the guy barely even grunted.

That kind of blow might have sent JD to the ground, though he would have been able to get back up. The fact that this guy didn’t react suggested he had some kind of pain blocking powers.

“You’re cheating,” JD spat, glaring at him.

The other guy just smiled, daring JD to do something about it. So he did.

JD ducked to the side faster than the recruit could react and threw two rapid punches to his stomach; he staggered back gasping. Before he could recollect himself, JD tossed a final punch to his throat.

Not being able to feel pain didn’t matter if you couldn’t breathe.

Grabbing his coat from the floor, JD pulled it on and jumped out of the ring. Wheezing, the other guy called after him, “Asshole! I don’t care if you’re the general’s kid, this isn’t over!” Laughing, JD didn’t bother to turn around as he answered. “Yeah it is.” And, just for good measure, JD snapped his fingers and set the guy’s shoes on fire.

He was still laughing about his prank over an hour later when someone knocked on the door of his room. “JD?”

His father’s assistant resembled nothing so much as a weasel, with a pointed face and small, glittering eyes. Dyer was the general’s second in command, though JD was fairly certain he had aspirations above the position. JD thought he shouldn’t bother; the man was far too dumb to take a position leading the rebellion. That was how Bud liked his closest people; ambitious, but too stupid to do anything about it.

“Your _father_ wants you, Jason.”

JD grimaced at both the strange way Dyer leaned on the word father and at the use of his full name. Barely anyone in the rebellion even knew it anymore. It was safest to go by initials, in case someone was caught. The sentinels couldn’t torture a name out of a person if no one knew it in the first place. So he went by JD, and though everyone was aware of his last name—because of his father—they were content ignore the fact that he even had a first name.

Dyer was waiting for an answer, so JD stood and pulled his coat on. “I can find my way there alone.”

He swept past Dyer, aware that his room was probably going to be searched in his absence. JD snorted at that; he’d learned long ago how to hide things that were important. Or, better yet, not to have anything important in the first place.

His father’s office was as gray and plain as the rest of their current fortress. It had once been some kind of factory, though now it was gutted and where there had once been machines and smoke, there were rebels. It was one of the nicer places they’d hidden out, but JD knew that wasn’t why his father had picked it. Bud had chosen this building because it was close to the school.

Westerburg Academy trained the finest sentinels in Sherwood, and maybe in the entire state. Damaging it could cripple the state, and the rebellion might finally be able to make a real difference. This was the closest they’d lived to it in years. JD knew Bud was planning something, though he hadn’t yet opened up about what it was.

“Jason. I hear you’ve been fighting.” Bud didn’t believe in small talk, or even prefacing his lectures or orders with a greeting. This didn’t bother JD; he wanted this meeting over with.

There was no use denying the accusation. News of the sparring match would have spread like wildfire through the ranks, and no gossip happened in the hideout that Bud didn’t hear eventually. Especially when it concerned his son. “Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

JD swallowed an exasperated sigh. “He challenged me to a match, sir, without powers. I accepted and we fought. I won.”

“What you did was injure someone I was planning on using for a mission tonight.”

_Shit._ Should he apologize? He didn’t really feel sorry for his actions. Thankfully, Bud wasn’t waiting for a reply. “You said this match was without powers, so why is it that he’s currently in the med room getting treated for burns?”

“He cheated, sir.” JD didn’t elaborate; he avoided sharing anything with his father if it was possible.

Bud seemed to consider that for a minute. “Dishonesty isn’t something we tolerate. However, you created this problem, so I expect you to fix it. What to you suggest for the mission tonight.”

A test. JD felt his face flush and fire itched at his fingertips at the idea that jumped into his head. It was dangerous. Stupid, even, but it thrilled him to the core. Pushing that down, he kept his face and tone neutral as he answered his father. “Send me.”

Bud raised one eyebrow and waited for JD to go on. He did his best to maintain his level tone as a plan took shape. “Westerburg’s welcome ceremony for new students is tonight. I could go, hide on a roof and send some fire around. The new recruits will panic; anyone not fully loyal to the state might try to run. We can pick them up and convince them to see our side of things.”

A slow smile spread across his father’s face. “Sometimes you surprise me, Jason. Alright, I’ll send you instead of Gideon.” His father turned away, and JD took that as a sign that he was dismissed.

“But, Jason?” JD halted just before he reached the door, tense. “In the future, never fuck with my plans again.”

JD felt the heat of flames dance around him, just barely singing his skin. It was enough to hurt, but not do dame. As always, Bud was perfectly in control of the fire he wielded.

JD didn’t wince. He let the heat touch him, waited for it to be over, and left. As soon as he was outside the office, he leaned against the wall, rubbing his arms where the memory of burns made his old scars throb. He didn’t let himself wallow in phantom pain for long though; he had a party to crash.

* * *

The city heat was stifling, and Veronica was sweating in her gray, academy issued uniform. Like most tactical gear, it was form fitting and sleek, designed so that exceptions could wear it while they were using all manner of gifts. Apparently it was better for the suit to resist drag when someone with a speed ability than for it to be comfortable to wear in the heat.

On the dais that had been set up on the academy stairs, Chief Sentinel Gowan was droning on about the honor of attending Westerburg and how lucky they all were to be students. “You are all already exceptions. Here, you will become exceptional,” He finished with a flourish, sweeping his arms out.

Veronica snorted, earning a glare from the boy sitting next to her who had been soaking in Gowan’s every word. She glared back at him until he gave up and turned back to the dais. He seemed to believe all the propaganda about becoming a sentinel, that is was a great honor, and the noblest career available to anyone. Veronica, however, didn’t believe there could be any honor where there was no choice.

And she had not chosen to train as a sentinel.

She looked back to the front when other people started to come up to the stage. Her eye was immediately drawn to three girls who stood just a little separate from the others. Something about them commanded attention, and it was more than their colorful uniforms amid the sea of gray.

“As you all know, our duty can be dangerous. The students standing on this stage serve as a reminder of that. Each of these groups has recently lost a member and chosen to select the replacement from our new class. Having reviewed your files, I am confident that they’ve all made wise decisions.” He stepped back and let Fleming take the microphone. She introduced a team of three boys, slightly older than Veronica who called the name of a boy several rows in front of Veronica. He stood and walked proudly to the front, clearly as honored by this as he was supposed to be.

The next group that stepped forward called the name of one of the girls Veronica had seen earlier. After them, a pair stepped forward, and Veronica felt the crowd hush. Losing one team member happened for a variety of reasons—training was dangerous and exceptions got crippled or died in accidents fairly often—but losing two members indicated that something else had happened. Something bigger.

“Chief Sentinel Gowan, sir, we have selected for our group Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeny.”

Veronica watched as the boy next to her extracted himself from the crowd to meet up with another boy on his way to the front to join their new team.

One by one, all the groups had selected their new members, until only the three girls Veronica had noticed earlier were left on the dais with Fleming and Gowan. Whispers coursed through the crowd, and Veronica caught the name ‘Heather’ on everyone’s lips, though she wasn’t sure which one they were talking about. All she knew was that these girls were important. Their selection would be too.

The girl in red stepped forward, her golden hair glinting in the evening sunlight. The other two—one in yellow and one in green—kept their eyes on their leader. “Chief Sentinel Gowan, we have selected Veronica Sawyer.”

Veronica felt her stomach drop, and her instincts told her to hide behind an illusion, to create a distraction so she could run, but she put her head up and walked forward. There was so much silence, Veronica could hear her own breathing, and it felt like it was reverberating in the thick, humid air.

All eyes were on her.

Her eyes were on them.

The one in yellow was looking at her with curiosity; the one in green seemed eager, almost hopeful. But the one in red… She looked at Veronica with unabashed malice.

The coldness in those gray eyes was enough to make Veronica want to run again, but she knew there was no way to get away.

Until the dais caught fire.

It felt like a miracle. Like some dormant god from ancient times had woken for a second just to give her this blessing.

Another fire appeared, burning a state flag that was hanging from a building. Everyone was panicking, chaos spread through the crowd faster than the fire was. Veronica seized the opportunity.

She ran.

When she was younger, she had enjoyed climbing trees, and her skill at it had been an early indicator that she was an exception. She called that skill back and—cloaking herself in an illusion so she couldn’t be seen—she started to scale the building towards the roof.

Once she made it, she ran. The wind ripped through her hair, and was breathing hard, but she felt freer than she had in years.

The edge of the building came up in a hurry, and when the time came, Veronica didn’t hesitate to leap onto the next roof. Once there, she froze.

There was a boy sitting on the roof, watching the ruined ceremony with a smile on his handsome face.

Veronica stood still and stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. She knew exactly who he was: a rebel.

He turned that smile on her, raising a hand as if to wave at her, but she noticed that he appeared to be showing off. Bright orange flames curled around his wrist and forearm in an intricate lattice. He quirked up one eyebrow, waiting for her reaction.

She smirked back at him, holding her arm up and summoning an illusion of fire identical to his, letting it wrap around her wrist.

The look of shock on his face was hilarious, and she couldn’t help giggling a little. Once he’d recovered, he cracked a smile. Veronica was just formulating something to say when she heard approaching footsteps.

His eyes went wide, his terror no longer funny. There was no way he’d be able to get away before whoever was coming arrived. She knew she should let him get caught. But somehow, she couldn’t make herself do it.

The sentinels would have her for the rest of her life—and it likely wouldn’t be a long one—she could have this one rebellion. She threw an illusion over him, hiding him from view just as the girl in yellow from the dais sped onto the roof.

She raised a small gun, pointing it at Veronica. “Why did you run?”

Veronica lied. “I saw someone up here, I thought I could catch him, but he got away.” She looked over the opposite side of the roof, far from where the boy was hidden, as if he’d escaped in that direction.

The girl accepted this and put the gun away. “We thought you were a runaway, Heather was livid.” She held out tanned hand and smiled, “I’m Heather, by the way. You’re our new teammate, right?”

“Yeah, Veronica, Sawyer.” She paused as she went over what Heather had said. “Wait, did you say you’re both named Heather?”

Heather’s smile turned a little wry. “We all are, actually. Heather, Heather, Heather, and now Veronica too, I guess.” Her hands twitched with nervous energy, and Veronica could tell already that this girl had a speed ability, which explained how she’d gotten up the building so fast.

With another friendly smile, the girl gestured to Veronica, “Come on, we should get back and tell them what happened with you and the rebel fire starter.”

Veronica followed her, but quickly risked a glance behind her, dismissing the illusion so she could see the boy one last time.

He was gone, leaving only the faint smell of smoke in his wake.


	2. New Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! You! All of you reading this! You're amazing and I'm so grateful to you for your support. I love this au, and I want you all to love it too. It means the world to me that people are reading it. The next chapter should be out pretty soon, because I wrote most of it before realizing it was too rushed and I needed to write this chapter. So that should be a thing in the next few days. Hmu on Tumblr (@scouts-mockingbird) if you want to chat! Enjoy!

“What happened, Jason?” Bud’s voice was cold and calm, though JD knew better than to believe that meant he wasn’t angry. “Where are the recruits you promised?”

JD didn’t remind him that he hadn’t promised anything, just suggested a possibility. Instead, he grasped at the one straw he had. “There was someone who ran, but—“

“But he got caught?” Bud interrupted, clearly his patience was running out.

“No. Well, yes, they came after her, but she covered for me. She must have had some kind of illusion power, because she hid me and let me get away. She didn’t run, but I think she might be… sympathetic to the cause.”

Bud paused to consider that, turning away to begin pacing his office in long, languid laps. “That’s something, though I had hoped for something a little more concrete. Where do you think we should go from here?”

This wasn’t Bud asking for advice. JD knew it was a test, and whatever he said would be wrong in some way, but he answered anyway. “Lay low for a while. Wait for a couple weeks, a month, then try something else. There’s a party I heard some rumors about. Every major politician and their mother is going to be there. We should too.”

“And what do you think we should do there?”

JD swallowed and squared his shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. “Gather information. They’ll have sentinel trainees doing security; we can learn their powers, find weaknesses. And if I’m right about who’s invited, Titus Kolt will be there—“

“Titus Kolt?”

Moments like this proved just how rarely Bud left the hideout. JD liked to hang around the city, listening to gossip and learning, but Bud preferred to stay with the rebellion. He claimed that nothing would run here without him, despite the many, many people who kept both the hideout and the rebellion as a whole running.

“Titus Kolt owns Kolttec.” Seeing no response from his father, JD clarified. “The security corporation? They designed the system around the academy. Word is that he drinks too much and talks too much, so we might be able to get him to brag about academy security and find a way in.”

Bud stopped pacing. “I’ll keep that in mind. You’re dismissed.”

JD left without another word.

Everything about his plan was solid, though JD would be lying if he tried to claim he had no ulterior motives. It had been hours since he’d made it off that rooftop, and he couldn’t get that girl off his mind.

She had covered for him.

She had saved his ass.

When he’d thought she had fire powers like his own, he’d been intrigued, when she risked her life to hide him he’d become something much more than that. She was brave, smart, and— if her illusion mimicking his flames was anything to go by— she had a sense of humor as well.

It didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous.

And he was hoping she’d be at that party. The girl who’d pursued her was one of the Heathers, the most highly honored team of sentinel trainees at Westerburg. JD hadn’t hung around once he knew he could escape, but he’d heard the Heather call Veronica her teammate. There was a good chance that the Heathers would be part of the security team at that party, which meant JD would see Veronica again. It was risky, and Bud would kill him if he found out, but JD didn’t mind the risk.

He wanted to talk to that girl.

And he thought she’d want to talk to him too.

* * *

In the aftermath of the ruined ceremony, everyone had a million questions for Veronica. She hated the attention and tried to keep her head down and her answers as short as possible. It was the red Heather, Chandler, that saved her. She pushed through the crowd and everyone backed away to make room for her. They left a wide circle around where Heather stood, as though she needed an especially large space to fit her personality. Veronica was happy to be drowned out by that

“Come on, Veronica. You need a tour.” Chandler’s tone was far from gentle, but it was still a relief. Gowan backed off, though his hesitance was evident. No one tried to stop them as Veronica and Chandler—followed by the other Heathers—made their way through the crowd.

The rescue was appreciated, but Veronica was wary of her new teammates, especially Chandler, whose glare during the ceremony was burned into Veronica’s mind. The other two introduced themselves; Heather McNamara, who Veronica had met on the roof, and Heather Duke, the one who seemed least likely to attack Veronica when her back was turned.

“Can you tell us a little about your powers?” Chandler asked, “Of course we all read your file, so we know some things, but I’d really like more detail.”

Veronica hesitated, fighting a strange temptation to reveal all the things about her powers that she normally kept to herself. She swallowed the impulse before answering. “I create illusions, they aren’t solid but they look really real. I can use them to hide, but mostly I just mess around with it.”

Chandler seemed dissatisfied with this answer. “What about secondary abilities, do you have any of those?”

It was common for people to have other abilities to a lesser degree than their main one. Some people had several of these smaller abilities, though having more than two or three was fairly uncommon.

“Agility, and a little bit of strength.” Veronica was good at climbing things, and more coordinated than most people. Her physical strength was nothing remarkable for an exception, but she was far stronger than ordinaries her size.

Chandler nodded, moderately satisfied with that answer, though Veronica had hardly given her anything she wouldn’t already know. They walked, and occasionally Duke would point out something about the architecture or the history of the school.

Unable to bear the quiet, Veronica asked, “What about you guys? What are your powers?”

McNamara smiled eagerly. “Speed! And my secondary is strength, but it’s a major secondary.”

“Telekinesis,” Duke murmured, keeping her head ducked.

“Heather doesn’t have a secondary,” Chandler added, with a smile Veronica thought was rather mean.

Leaning over to Duke, she whispered, “You don’t need one with a power like telekinesis, who needs strength when you can lift things with your mind?”

Duke’s lips quirked into a hesitant smile, directed at Veronica but Chandler cut her off before she could say anything. “ _I_ have charisma and strength. They’re both so powerful no one even knows which one is my primary and which is my secondary.”

Her attitude made Veronica want to gag, but she held it in. “Wow.”

Duke laughed behind her hand at Veronica’s sarcasm, but Chandler glared. “Veronica, if you’re going to openly be a bitch, I can always send you back to join a team of kids. You’re a part of the most powerful training group at Westerburg. Don’t blow it.”

Chastened, Veronica muttered an apology, though moments later she wondered why she had. She wasn’t sorry, and she didn’t care about being a part of a special group. She didn’t even want to be a sentinel.

It took several seconds for her to realize what had happened. “You used your power on me.”

Chandler flicked her fingers as though dismissing the idea. “I thought you’d want a demonstration, it’s not like I made you do anything bad.”

“You couldn’t do that.” Veronica narrowed her eyes, searching for a lie on Heather’s face when she replied.

“No, I couldn’t. I can only make you want to agree with me, to be on my side. If a person has strong enough convictions, it hardly does anything. Do you have strong convictions, Veronica?”

_Yes._ “I guess?”

Chandler laughed and gestured to McNamara and Duke, “Neither do they. Teams always work best if there’s one clear leader.”

Veronica didn’t argue with her, not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t want Chandler to think she was vying for the position.

Seeing this acquiescence, Chandler smiled warmly, “Good. You’ll see, Veronica, there are lots of benefits to being on our team, and you’ll be so glad we chose you.”

“Why did you?”

Chandler gave no answer; instead, she continued down the hall and stopped in front of a door. “This is your room, you’re sharing with Duke and McNamara, since they have an empty bed. I have my own room, just down the hall, so let me know if you need anything.”

Veronica knew she would never ask for anything from Chandler if there was any other way of getting it. Everything about her screamed that she was a loyal sentinel in training. If she knew how much Veronica hated the idea of becoming a servant to the state, she would be furious. It was almost satisfying to think about. Veronica became even more determined to keep her secrets to herself. Her secrets felt like the only power she had left.

Chandler left them in front of the door and walked off down the hall, either to go to her room or check in with Gowan.

The small bag of things Veronica had been allowed to take from home was sitting on the bed closest to the window. Veronica threw herself onto the bed, shoving the bag out of the way. It was nice to be able to relax for a second. The time since her eighteenth birthday had been consumed with waiting until sentinels came to remove her from her home and take her here. No one was warned they would be coming to avoid people running or the rebels getting to them first.

Heather and Heather were both sitting on their beds as well, Duke was reading and McNamara was playing some kind of game on her tablet.

“Can I ask you something?” Veronica wasn’t sure she was supposed to interrupt the silence, but curiosity got the better of her. When neither Duke nor McNamara told her to shut up, she continued. “What’s Heather’s deal?”

Duke and McNamara exchanged a look, both seeming unsure. “Well…” McNamara paused, biting her lip. “Heather was raised here.”

“What, in Sherwood?” Veronica was pretty sure most students at Westerburg were raised in Sherwood. It was a big city.

Heather shook her head, “No, she was raised at Westerburg. Heather’s mom had her tested for abilities when she was born. Once she found out she was an exception, she turned Heather over to the state. All Heather wants is to become like the sentinels that raised her.”

Duke took over the tale when McNamara stopped. “As she got older, Gowan saw an opportunity to raise public opinion of sentinels and the state. He chose the three of us to be a sort of… public representation of Westerburg. We go on missions that put us in the spotlight, like building rescues or security at parties for politicians. We wear our colorful uniforms and people like us, which means they like Westerburg and the state.”

Digging deep, Veronica thought she detected a trace of bitterness in Duke’s tone, but she wasn’t certain it wasn’t wishful thinking.

There was no bitterness on McNamara’s face or in her voice when she spoke. “I like it. We get to do fun stuff and people treat us like we’re special. You’ll see, Veronica, it’s fun!”

Duke made a noncommittal noise and went back to her book, so McNamara turned her tablet back on and they lapsed into silence.

Once upon a time, Veronica would have used this quiet moment to write in her diary, but she’d burned it before leaving for Westerburg. There was no privacy here, and she couldn’t trust anyone with her thoughts or secrets. She missed it. It would have been nice to be able to write about the boy from the rooftop, and how she’d almost run away.

The sting of her failure came back in a rush, sharper now that she knew that she was fated to become a dancing monkey for the state. The single second she’d had to taste freedom had been blissful, but ultimately it hurt worse knowing what could have been. She could have run away with that rebel and been allowed to choose her fight.

Veronica shook that thought away quickly. She had no interest in getting involved with the rebellion. All she wanted was to be left alone, in a world without rebels or sentinels. A world where she was free.

* * *

JD took another swing at a punching bag, glad to have the training room to himself for once. Of course, the only way to manage it was to go in the middle of the night, but he didn’t mind that. He was just glad to be alone.

He took another swing; the sound of his fist hitting the bag was satisfying, as was the slight twinge of pain that ran up his arm.

Earlier, thinking about the girl had been pleasant, but now it was getting old. He didn’t have time for this shit. Even within the rebellion, JD didn’t make friends. Part of that was due to the fact that no one trusted the general’s son, but the other part was that friends he’d made in the past had a habit of dying.

After that happened a few times, he’d realized it was simplest to be alone.

But now, he was stuck thinking of a girl he’d seen for ten seconds and hadn’t even spoken to. A girl he knew nothing about, aside from her name.

Well… If he knew her name…

JD was about to do something stupid.

There was one computer in the whole basis that had access—obtained secretly by a rebel with technopathic abilities— to Westerburg files.

That computer was in his father’s office.

Taking a deep breath, JD one last swing at the bag before he turned away and unwrapped his wrists. Pulling his shirt on, he made his way out of the practice rooms and up towards the offices.

The hallways were eerily silent, and he had to duck carefully around corners to miss the patrol. He knew if he was caught, he could talk his way out of it, but that risked word of this excursion reaching the general, something he would prefer to avoid.

He’d broken into Bud’s office once before, and it wasn’t something he’d like to be caught doing twice. Of course, patrol rotations were easy to avoid if you knew them well enough, which JD did. He knew base security as well as he knew how to spell his own name at this point.

His caution and knowledge paid off, and he made it to the general’s office without incident. It was dark and empty, exactly as he’d hoped it would be. The files he needed were difficult to access, but less so than the one’s he’d been looking for the last time he’d done this. Thankfully, this time he was more successful.

The Westerburg student files were detailed and extensive, and had thankfully been updated to include the new students. He searched Veronica’s name, and found her almost immediately.

Her file included mostly information he could have guessed himself, along with a few photos of her that he doubted she was aware of. She had the power to create illusions, and agility as a secondary power. She was eighteen years old, had been assigned to Gowan’s team of puppets, and had a small flag on her file. He clicked on it to see what special notes Gowan had on her.

“Suspected lack of loyalty. Monitor closely.”

Beneath that had also been noted that Veronica had “impressive talent” and “rare control”.

That explained her team assignment. She was powerful enough to keep up with them, and they would report anything suspicious she said back to Gowan.

Standing in the dark office, bathed in the blue light from the screen, JD had to smile. “Veronica Sawyer, you and I are going to cause the state a lot of trouble. I can already tell.”


	3. Crashing Parties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really long, but those of you that follow me on tumblr voted, and you wanted the long update rather than two short ones, so here you go! Also, I want to let you all know that I respond to all comments, even ones from guest users, so if you left a comment and want to see what I said, don't forget to check that! I'm always happy to answer questions either in comments or on tumblr! Enjoy!

Veronica’s bullet hit the disturbingly human-shaped target perfectly. The resulting feeling was a confusing mess of pride and disgust. She hadn’t ever wanted to believe she might be good at killing, but from the second Chandler had handed her the gun, she’d felt calmer and more confident than she had since coming to Westerburg three weeks ago.  

What did that make her? She could only wonder.

Beyond that, it was hard to fight against Heather’s power, which made it hard to resist feeling glad every time Chandler was happy. Sometimes, Veronica even caught herself thinking ridiculous things that echoed the state propaganda she’d read and watched in school growing up.

There was power in feeling accepted, and the Heathers had undoubtedly accepted her. All of Westerburg had. She was powerful, popular, and there was something intoxicating about that. The insidious thought of _how bad could it be…_ came into her head more and more often these days.

“Veronica! Are you going to stand there or are you going to shoot again?” Chandler’s voice cut through Veronica’s thoughts, and she realized she’d been standing there, holding her gun, and staring at her target for far longer than was necessary or normal.

“Sorry, Heather,” Veronica muttered, setting her gun aside and stepping out of the way so Chandler could take her place with a specialized, high-powered crossbow she’d had specially made.

McNamara carried her gun for support— only drawing it occasionally for situations where a threat was more effective than action— because she preferred hand-to-hand and close combat. She stood off to the side observing Chandler and Veronica while they worked. Duke was sitting on a bench reading. She used an enormous square shield in battle, as her ability made the use of a weapon pointless. If someone tried to shoot her, she could divert the bullet or throw off the shooter’s aim. There wasn’t much point to her learning another weapon.

Chandler stepped back from the range. “Another perfect target! I guess I finally got the calibration on this thing right.” She looked down at her crossbow with a look that bordered on adoring. Veronica tried not to laugh.

“Does that mean we’re done here?” McNamara asked, pushing herself off the wall.

Duke stood. “Yeah Heather, does that mean we’re done?”

Chandler rolled her eyes at Duke’s over-eager repetition, but didn’t comment on it. Veronica was glad, because their bickering was exhausting, and any reprieve was appreciated.

“We’re not done yet, I’d like to get a little bit more hand-to-hand in before dinner. Veronica’s form still needs so much work, and Heather you’ve hardly practiced at all this week.”

She’d been talking to Heather Duke, who hung her head in shame and walked out the door looking like a kicked puppy. Veronica wanted to like Duke, but moments like this made her hate the other girl. She wanted to scream at her to fight back, to not let Chandler step all over her all the time, but it wouldn’t have been any use. The pecking order of this team had been established for a long time from what Veronica could tell.

The arrived at the sparring gym and found another team already there, and half the school hanging around to watch them.

Veronica recognized one of the boys in the ring as the boy who’d occupied the seat next to her at the ceremony, and she’d run into his teammates in the dining hall. They hadn’t been pleasant encounters.

The room fell silent as the Heathers walked in, all eyes turning towards them. The team leader stepped out of the fray and smiled at them. “Finally some decent fucking competition. What do you say, Heather?”

Chandler considered them for a long moment. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Girls, get ready for a fight.”

The other team’s leader smiled, and Veronica heard the two boys who’d just been added to the team snort and mutter, “Great, we get to break in the new girl.”

Veronica’s blood boiled. Suddenly, she wasn’t worried about the fight, and for the first time in her life it didn’t matter at all that she was being forced to fight by an uncaring state. All that mattered was the team around her and the fact that she _had_ to win.

Chandler gathered them all together in a tight circle. “This fight is going to be messy, but don’t hold back,” She glared directly at Veronica, “Don’t. Hold. Back. Maxwell is the team leader, he has strength so make sure he doesn’t get his arms around you, he’s clumsy so move fast. Ace can fly, but he tires himself out really fast. The other two are new, so I haven’t heard much about them.”

“Premonitions and force fields,” Duke supplied, “Their names are Kurt and Ram, I think.”

Muttering something about stupid names, Heather looked over at the four boys, who were all staring at them, waiting. She cleared her throat. “Okay, well then the plan is to outsmart them, and keep moving. We’re faster and better trained.” Her smile grew wide, and Veronica couldn’t help returning it. “Let’s kick their asses.”

They climbed into the ring and squared off. Veronica found herself against Kurt, the one she’d sat next to who had some kind of prediction abilities. They were weak though, he only got a few seconds of warning, which meant Veronica had to be thinking and moving faster than his powers allowed him to react.

This was going to be fun.

At first, it was. Veronica started by moving back and ducking to the side, forcing Kurt to overreach with his punch, which put him off balance. The others were too occupied to do anything to help her, and she was too far away to do any more damage to him, so he got his footing faster than she would have liked. She dropped to the ground and left an illusion of herself behind, hoping he would take the bait.

He didn’t, but he froze, which was good enough for her. Running behind him, she delivered a hard blow to the back of his head. She realized after she’d done it why Kurt had frozen in shock and confusion; he’d seen an image of her appearing behind him while he thought she was standing in front of him.

Her blow hadn’t been hard enough to knock him down, but Duke had spotted her and used her powers to swipe Kurt’s foot out from under him. He fell to the ground; his nose hit the mat first in a burst of blood.

Realizing he wasn’t likely to get up anytime soon, Veronica moved to back up her teammates. She didn’t move fast enough, and Ace punched her in the jaw. The pain was sharp and shocking—the Heathers had always avoided face hits in their training—and Veronica tripped, falling to her knees. Needing a moment to recover, Veronica made an illusion of Chandler approaching Ace from the side. He moved to defend himself, and punched through the illusion. His distraction gave Veronica enough time to stand up and punch him in the stomach before she had to retreat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Veronica saw Duke go down as Ram backhanded her into the side of the ring. She crumpled to the ground, looking so small next to Ram’s hulking form.

Rage boiled up inside Veronica as the reality of what was actually happening dawned on her. A handful of teenagers were fighting each other for fun, to practice fighting real battles for the state. And their classmates were surrounding the ring, shouting and cheering like it was all a game.

The anger twisted and formed into strength Veronica hadn’t felt before, and she wanted to do something rash and dangerous. Fighting down this idiotic instinct, Veronica leaned on the power she was most comfortable with and summoned an illusion. She sent the beautifully crafted goat charging at Ram and he dove out of the way, shrieking in terror.

So consumed by all of this, Veronica forgot to watch her back and was shocked when a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, lifting her off the ground and squeezing.

Too late, Chandler’s words came back to Veronica, “Maxwell has strength, don’t let him get his arms around you.”

“I’m going to crush you,” He hissed into her ear and Veronica went cold. Training or not, she believed that he would kill her. “You’re a traitor, you let the rebel go. You deserve this.”

He squeezed tighter, and Veronica struggled for breath, fighting to get a couple words out. “No, I didn’t!”

Maxwell’s grip loosened just a little, and Veronica squirmed desperately. There was no way to cry out loud enough to get McNamara or Chandler to come to her rescue; she was on her own.

Rescue came when a girl pushed through the crowd, holding Heather Chandler’s tablet aloft.

Chandler must have seen it, because she held up her hand and all fighting ceased. “I have orders coming in.” She glared at the girl who’d brought the tablet forward. “Never touch this again Martha Dreamfreak.” The girl—Martha—cowered and retreated.

Kurt dropped Veronica and she fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Duke stood gingerly and, with McNamara’s help, climbed out of the ring. Veronica went too, though with far less interest. These were the first orders they’d received since she’d joined the Heathers, and she wasn’t certain she wanted them, though it was a relief to no longer be captive in Kurt’s crushing grasp.

Chandler waited for the crowd to disperse before she looked up from the tablet with a sly smile. “Well, Veronica, looks like they’re giving you your shot.”

McNamara squealed and seized Chandler’s arm. “The Remington party?”

Chandler nodded and even Duke smiled. Only Veronica seemed uninterested in the assignment. Duke noticed this, “Don’t you know who the Remingtons are?”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course I know who the Remingtons are, they own half the city and control the government.”

“You forgot the part where they throw the best parties ever,” McNamara gushed, bouncing on her toes.

Chandler smiled affectionately at her, “Parties that need security. That’s why we’re going. But since it’s a party, we get to wear our real uniforms. Veronica, yours just got back from production.”

Veronica felt a warm flush of excitement rise in her cheeks. Though she hated most things about being at Westerburg, designing that uniform had been fun and she was please with how it had turned out.

“Of course,” Chandler was saying, “I had to make a few changes, the way you designed it wasn’t quite working, but I’m sure you’ll still love it.” The way she said that sounded more like a threat than reassurance.

Just like with everything else, Veronica didn’t get a say in how she felt about this matter.

The four of them packed up their training gear and made their way back to the dormitories. Kurt’s team glared at them as they left, but Kurt himself looked at Veronica with confusion she didn’t want to contemplate.

They were all silent, recovering from their fight as they gathered the things they would need for the security mission. Veronica finally voiced a question that had been teasing her mind since Duke had told her Chandler’s story: “Were you raised here too? At Westerburg, I mean.”

Duke sighed. “We both came to Westerburg early, but not that early. My mom was arrested so they turned me over to the state. Since I was an exception, they just decided to start my training early. And Heather…” She glanced over at McNamara who was studiously ignoring them. Duke lowered her voice, “Her parents died in a rebel attack a couple years ago. The building burned to the ground, no one made it out.”

That explained why Heather had been after the fire starter at the ceremony. And why Heather was pretending their conversation wasn’t happening. To cheer her up, Veronica created an illusion of a small yellow bird and sent it to the other side of the room to flutter around Heather.

Heather smiled, reaching up to touch it. With a little focus, Veronica made the bird land on Heather’s finger. She lifted her hand to admire it. “Thanks, Veronica. It’s pretty.”

Duke watched this curiously, her eyes shifting from the bird, to Heather, to Veronica. “You guys should really motor if you want to be ready in time for this party. Veronica, your new uniform is in the closet.” She said finally, and Veronica couldn’t read her tone.

Shrugging slightly, Veronica opened the closet to reveal her uniform, and her heart sank. The gorgeous suit she’d created—the one thing about Westerburg that had made her happy— had been changed almost completely. “Why is it so… blue?”

McNamara shrugged, “The one you designed was blue, wasn’t it?”

Parts of it had been blue, but a dark, midnight blue, and most of it was black, with dark gray metallic accents. This thing was… bright. “Wearing this is like putting a target on my back; how am I supposed to sneak around in cobalt blue?”

Duke looked sympathetic as she pulled on her green uniform, but McNamara laughed. “It’s not like we use these for stealth missions. They’re just for the things that the public sees us doing. Heather probably wanted your color to be more noticeable. Plus the people love them!”

Veronica really wanted to tell McNamara where she could shove the people’s feelings, but she held back. It would only get her in trouble, and exceptions who argued didn’t last long at academies, especially not Westerburg.

So she pulled on the offensive uniform, trying not to whine about how tight it was or how ridiculous she looked. At least she hadn’t been stuck in a skirt like McNamara, whose uniform was so short Veronica thought she was in danger of revealing more than she meant to.

McNamara was ready first, and she went to Chandler’s room to get her, leaving Veronica alone with Duke.

Duke glanced furtively around the room as though she thought someone was listening in, but her eyes were clear and serious when she looked back at Veronica. “Don’t worry, you get used to it.”

“Get used to it?” Veronica asked, but Duke turned out the door, leaving Veronica confused. Since she was alone in the room, Veronica took a risk and threw on the black coat she’d been wearing when she arrived at Westerburg, one of very few things she had left from her old life. She would wear Heather’s ugly uniform, but she would wear it with something that was hers.

 

Their arrival at the party caused quite a stir. Veronica was learning that most things the Heathers did caused a bit of a stir. People started babbling excitedly as they entered, and all eyes turned to them. Veronica cast and illusion of a smile over her face, unable to summon one for real.

Before the crowds of people could come over to greet them, Chandler pulled them off to the side. “This party is extremely important to our status, so don’t fuck it up. Stay to the sides of the room and don’t speak to anyone unless people speak to you first. If someone asks you to do something, do it. No questions. Heather, are you paying attention?”

McNamara’s eyes snapped back to Chandler, “Sorry, Heather.”

Duke snorted, “She was looking for Stuart Remington, she’s hoping some rich ordinary will marry her and whisk her away from this life.”

Blushing deeply, McNamara ducked her head and muttered, “No, I don’t.”

Veronica hoped she was telling the truth. Ordinaries— especially rich, powerful ordinaries—didn’t marry exceptions. Of course, many young exceptions still believed in the fairy tale of having an ordinary fall for them and buy them out of service, allowing them to live a normal life.

The thought made Veronica sick. She didn’t think it was freedom if you had to be bought to get it.

Chandler huffed and rolled her eyes, “Just remember your orders. Veronica, you’re new, so people will be curious about you. Be ready to show off your powers a bit.” She eyed Veronica’s outfit for the hundredth time that night. “I wish you could have just worn your uniform like everyone else.”

“I was cold,” Veronica lied, tugging her jacket tighter around her shoulders.

Chandler shrugged it off. Her uniform was something to behold, with its wide shoulders and bright red accents, and it was no wonder that everyone in the room was staring at her. She sighed and plowed on with her speech. “Just be polite and give the people what they want. I’m not expecting any trouble at this party, so don’t make any.” She glared at Veronica for the last part, as though she expected something from her. It sent shivers down Veronica’s spine.

After that, the group scattered, each going to stand against a wall and pretend they were there for security, rather than as decoration and entertainment. For the most part, the party guests seemed content to speak to the other Heathers or to each other, leaving Veronica alone.

It wasn’t horrible. Everyone was well dressed, and Veronica studied the details of people’s faces and outfits and contemplated wearing an illusion of one of them, just to freak people out. The idea made her laugh, but the smile slid off her face when she noticed a tall, well-dressed guest walking up to her.

He smiled at her, a smarmy look that didn’t make him more appealing. He smelled like money and Veronica’s stomach turned. “Hi, you know who I am so we can skip introductions.”

She debated the merits of correcting his assumption, and decided against it. Instead, she just nodded and tried to seem boring so he would leave.

“So, what can you do?” He leaned in, his leer growing even wider. “Exception girls are so freaky.”

Veronica cringed but tried not to show it. Her mind jumped to the boy from the roof, inspiring her next illusion. She created a burst of flames in the guy’s glass, startling him so much that he spilled it on himself.

She couldn’t help laughing, despite his irritation and how pissed off Heather would be. Still, she couldn’t risk pissing off someone with his power. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, it was just an illusion.”

He didn’t seem fooled by her wide, innocent eyes and simpering smile, but he calmed down a little. “Thank you for the demonstration, trainee. Excuse me.”

“Bye!” She waved cheerfully and falsely as she watched him go, sagging in relief once he disappeared into the crowd.

She followed him with her eyes, but her breath caught when she noticed a strangely familiar figure in a long dark coat moving through the crowd.

Without thinking, she cast an illusion over herself so she could follow the boy from the rooftop.

* * *

She was here. The girl he’d seen on the roof at Westerburg was here.

And she’d seen him.

They hadn’t made eye contact, but JD could feel her following him. The illusion she put over herself made it difficult to spot her, but he knew she was there all the same. The heat from all the bodies around him pressed against him, and part of him was scared of being spotted by a sentinel trainee, but his interest in the girl outweighed his caution.

It didn’t take much to lose her, vanishing into the crowd until she gave up and slipped out of the ballroom. He followed her there, appearing behind her at the exact second she dropped the illusion.

“Greetings and salutations.”

She jumped, but tried to hide it, turning slowly to face him. “Hello.”

“You know, if we keep meeting like this, people will start to talk.”

The girl glared at him, “Yeah, and I’ll get shot for treason.”

JD shook his head, “You know that’s not what I want.”

“I don’t know anything about you, aside from the fact that you’re a rebel that can control fire.”

He didn’t correct her about his powers, though to say that he controlled fire was a bit of an exaggeration. He could start fires, and maintain them when there was no fuel, but most of the time he felt that the fire controlled him, rather than the other way around.

“Well, based on that you should know that I don’t want exceptions dead. I want them free.” He kept his gaze level with hers, though meeting those eyes was difficult. They were strange—somehow both dark and bright—and he suspected looking into them for too long was dangerous.

Veronica laughed. “So you’re trying to set me free? Is that why you’re here?”

He debated being honest with her. He wanted to, but there was too much risk with her allegiance as uncertain as it was.

“I had other reasons for being here, but if you’re looking for freedom…” He trailed off and gestured to the window behind him.

Shaking her head, she glanced over her shoulder, making sure none of her teammates were looking for her. “The rebellion isn’t freedom.”

It was nearly impossible not to agree with her. He knew better than anyone that the rebellion held little freedom, but he hoped that maybe after it was over, there could be.   Still, he wanted this girl on his side. He wanted her away from the Heathers, Westerburg, and the state.  

“Is it any less free than what you’re doing right now? Dressing up as a clown and performing for the state?” He took a long look at the almost offensively blue costume she wore. It clearly had some tactical features, but those hardly made it less ridiculous.

Offended, Veronica pulled her coat closer around her and glared at him, “It wasn’t supposed to look like this.”

He nodded and let the subject drop so he could look at her a little more. She was short; with a thin frame that belied the strength she’d displayed climbing up to the roof on the day of the ceremony. And nothing about the ugly uniform could have disguised that she was pretty.

“What are your reasons?” She asked abruptly.

“My reasons for what?”

She narrowed her eyes. “For being here.”

“I can’t tell you that.” He wanted to, but they were dancing around something very dangerous for both of them.

“You didn’t kill anyone at the ceremony.” She stated it plainly, but he sensed the question in her words; she knew he could have killed dozens or hundreds of people. Instead he’d done petty damage.

He shrugged. “I told you, I—The rebellion doesn’t want exceptions dead.”

“So, you just wanted to show off?”

JD couldn’t hold in a smile at her skeptic face. “Well, the extreme always makes an impression.” _It certainly worked on you,_ he thought, staring at a girl who—despite having everything to lose—was here with him.

Veronica Sawyer was brave, and already more of a rebel than she realized.

Responding to his smile, she stepped a little closer, lifting her face to look up at him. Stupidly, JD smiled down at her.

At that moment, he glanced up and saw Gideon— his partner on this mission and his father’s new favorite— looking through the doorway at the two of them. He left before JD could get his attention to try to explain. It was something of a relief, as he knew there was no way to explain what was going on between him and Veronica.

“I have to go,” She said suddenly, as if sensing that they’d been observed. “We should… We shouldn’t do this again.”

JD nodded. “We shouldn’t. But if something ever happens, just get away from Westerburg and ask for JD. They’ll tell you where to find me.” He couldn’t give her any more detail about where the rebellion was currently housed, but he believed it would be good enough. “Stay safe.”

“You too.” She disappeared, hidden by an illusion, and he felt her heat leave the room.

JD exited through the window, and as he left the property and began to head towards the hideout, he touched the security plans he’d stolen and stored in his pocket. He’d found a way for the rebels to get into Westerburg.

Veronica didn’t want to fight a war, but he knew she was already a part of one. When everything fell, JD could only hope they would be fighting together.


	4. Making Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely supposed to be studying for a midterm, but I'm not doing that. Instead, I wrote this. I hope you all think it was worth it. Enjoy!

The rebel’s name was JD. He had green eyes. He was slightly taller than average, with broad shoulders. Veronica repeated this description to herself for the hundredth time, but still couldn’t make herself tell Chandler, or Fleming, or Gowan that she’d seen and spoken to him at the party the night before. She knew she should. Her safest option was to stand firmly on the side of the sentinels. Rebels died every day, and they’d never so much as made a dent in changing the state’s policies on exceptions.

Yes, Veronica knew it was best not to fight the system that controlled her entire life, and yet... And yet she couldn’t betray JD.

Veronica hit the mats with yet another loud and painful thud. She groaned and rolled over, hauling herself to her feet only to get hit again.

McNamara seemed vaguely apologetic about the beating she was giving Veronica at Chandler’s orders. She had been sparring with Veronica for the better part of an hour, and Veronica was still pretty terrible at all the hand-to-hand moves McNamara was trying to teach her.

Chandler—who had tied up her thick blond hair with a red headband that was decidedly not uniform standard—was not pleased. “Veronica, you’re not even trying! You just keep letting yourself get hit. And fix your goddamn form, for fuck’s sake have you listened to anything I’ve said?”

So Veronica stood up and prepared to have McNamara kick her ass again. This time, however, she made an attempt at dodging, though it failed.

Once again, Heather landed a hit and sent Veronica sprawling. Chandler watched it with a critical eye. “Heather, you’re out. I’m going in.” She climbed into the ring as McNamara left it, standing in the center, facing Veronica. She was glaring at her so intensely Veronica had to wonder if she knew that Veronica had let the rebel go twice now, even though she knew it wasn’t possible.

If Chandler or anyone else knew about JD, Veronica would have been tried for treason by now.

If they knew, she would be dead by now.

“Veronica,” Chandler instructed, “You need to try harder. What happens if we run into the fire starter again? People won’t forgive you for making the same mistake twice.” Heather’s words implied that _she_ wouldn’t forgive Veronica if she made the same “mistake” again.

Maxwell’s words from the fight came back to her, reminding her that not everyone believed that she was just a trainee who’d done something dumb trying to prove herself. At least one person believed that she’d let him go on purpose, and Veronica suspected that Chandler did too. Perhaps that was why Veronica’s training was so brutal today.

Chandler stepped towards her, swinging a fist towards Veronica’s face and pulling her out of her thoughts. She ducked, rolling away from it.

In fights, Veronica had learned that Chandler preferred to use weapons, which meant that Veronica might stand a chance against her. Heather’s strength was dangerous, but if Veronica was fast enough to keep from getting hit, she could potentially win the fight.

She liked the idea of winning for a change.

“Veronica, stop running away, try to fight,” Chandler goaded, leaning in and giving Veronica an opportunity.

She created two simultaneous illusions; both copying and hiding herself.   Chandler swung at the illusion of Veronica, falling through it. Veronica stood, leapt, and knocked Heather to the ground, landing gracefully next to her with one foot on her back.

“Took you long enough,” Chandler muttered, rolling so she could stand up. “You should have started using your powers way sooner, especially against Heather. You’re so much smarter than her she never would have managed to beat you.”

McNamara seemed hurt by that, but she didn’t say so. Veronica tried to send her an apologetic glance, but the other girl wasn’t looking. Chandler smiled, “Last round. Duke, show Veronica how to use powers in a fight.”

Great. She used one little illusion and now she was up against a telekinetic. Chandler left the ring to make room for Duke, who didn’t seem happy about the pairing. Come to think of it, Veronica couldn’t remember ever seeing Duke use her powers for much of anything.

Duke was the only Heather that was around Veronica’s size—both McNamara and Chandler were taller than her, though Chandler slightly less so—and she felt better about this fight. Her powers were similar to Duke’s, both mental rather than physical. This felt like an even match to Veronica, which the fights with McNamara and Chandler hadn’t.

Veronica made the first move, stepping forward to try and trip Duke. She twirled away, and Veronica felt a tug on her shoe that sent her crashing to the floor. If that was how Duke wanted to play it…

Crafting an illusion carefully would have taken too long for it to be practical here, so Veronica used an old favorite. She created an illusion of a perfectly white box all around Duke, effectively blinding her, and then used it as a chance to sneak up behind her. Duke whirled around, swinging her fists blindly, but Veronica ducked them easily.

Glancing up, Veronica saw Chandler watching her and felt a rush of pride. She was about to prove herself, to show that she belonged on this team. That she deserved her place more than Duke. Smiling at this, Veronica pushed Duke hard, sending her to the ground.

“Excellent work, Veronica, that was such a good trick.” Chandler smiled at her, and Veronica flushed with pride.

Then she looked at Duke lying on the floor, a bruise blossoming on her cheek where she’d fallen.

Sick shame crawled up Veronica’s throat and choked her. The rush faded, leaving Veronica keenly aware of how easily she’d fallen for Chandler’s powers. Reaching down, Veronica offered her hand to Duke to help her stand up. Duke ignored her and stood on her own. She was glaring, but Veronica could swear there were tears in her eyes.

Veronica was about to tell Duke she was sorry, that she hadn’t meant to push so hard, that she’d played dirty and there should be a rematch, but she choked on her words.

She didn’t want to apologize in front of Chandler.

Neither Chandler nor McNamara seemed aware of Veronica or Duke’s discomfort. Chandler was still smiling, though there was a cruel twist to it. “Alright, it’s time for workout. Those of us who don’t have strength as a natural power need to make sure they can keep up.” She laughed a little turning to Duke, “We’re doing push-ups so you could have just stayed on the ground, Heather.”

Veronica clenched her teeth and got to the ground next to Duke. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Sleep had eluded JD most of the night, his room was too cold and his dreams were their usual tangle of darkness and flames, blood and rebellion. He finally managed to fall asleep some time in the very early morning, though it didn’t last long.

Someone was pounding on his door. “Your presence is demanded in the general’s office.”

JD jolted out of bed and up to his feet, rushing to get dressed while the pounding increased in intensity. In his hurry to get out the door, he forgot his coat.

Surprisingly, his father hadn’t sent Dyer to get him as usual. Instead, two guys JD had seen around but never spoken to were waiting for him on the other side of the door. They walked on either side of him as he made his way up to his father’s office.

Like guards.

A tense sickness settled in JD’s stomach as he wondered why he was being summoned like this. Without his coat, he felt strangely naked and vulnerable, but he kept his head up and his posture casual. He would allow nothing to give away his nerves.

_I haven’t done anything wrong._

He knew it wasn’t necessarily true, but he kept repeating the words to himself anyway. Whatever happened would be worse if he acted guilty.

The guards left him at the office door, and he walked in alone.

His father stood behind his desk with Dyer at his side. In front of him, Gideon turned around as JD entered.

“Jason. I’ve just received a report about last night’s mission that I find… confusing. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” The general’s voice was cold, and JD got the impression that Bud had already made up his mind about what had happened.

He lied anyway. “The mission was a success, sir. We went to the party; I spoke to Kolt pretending to be interested in purchasing a security system. He gave me a copy of Westerburg’s plans as an example of his work. I delivered those plans to you.”

Bud seemed to consider that. “Did anything else happen while you were at the party?”

Yes. “No.”

Dyer smiled gleefully at the lie. JD remembered the man’s ability to see lies when they were told and realized how completely fucked he was. Still, he stood tall and refused to show fear.

“Interesting,” Bud said, “That’s not what Gideon was just telling me. Gideon, would you like to repeat the report you gave me?”

Gideon was sweating and he looked like he wanted to do anything but that, but he nodded. “He got the plans like he said, but afterwards he disappeared. When I found him, he was in a different room.”

“Was he alone in this room?” The general asked, and JD’s heart started racing.

Veronica.

Bud knew about Veronica.

White-hot rage momentarily obscured his fear as he decided he was going to find a way to get back at Gideon. Goddamn snitch.

Unaware of JD’s intentions, Gideon answered. “No, sir. He was with a girl. A sentinel, sir.”

Dyer was practically giggling as he watched the conversation. JD felt a special kind of revulsion for the man, who surely knew what was going to happen to JD.

“And what were they doing?” Though Bud’s question was for Gideon, his gaze never left JD.

Gideon was obviously uncomfortable, but it didn’t stop him from answering the question. “He was… flirting with her, sir.”

Suddenly, it was as if there was no one else in the room except Bud and JD. “Flirting. With a sentinel.” He was about to go off, JD could tell. The room was too cold, as if preparing for the fire that was surely about to break out.

“Sir!” JD said desperately, “I can explain, she’s not loyal, sir. Veronic—The sentinel. She isn’t loyal to the state; I think we can get her on our side. She’s powerful,” He finished lamely, knowing he sounded like an idiotic child, begging and scared.

JD could see his father considering that, and he saw the moment Bud realized that he was talking about the same girl from the ceremony. There was no way to tell if he suspected that JD had wanted to go to the party in the hopes of seeing Veronica again.

There was a long, tense pause. For a brief second, JD believed he would get away with this.

Pain brought him to his knees and pulled a scream from his lips before he even registered that his arm was on fire.

It was over in a minute, though the pain and the stench of burning flesh lingered.

His father glared down at him. “No excuses. We don’t speak to sentinels. We don’t trust them. You know what happens to traitors, Jason.”

Gideon looked sick, and JD was darkly glad. He hoped Gideon fainted at the sight of the charred and blistering skin on JD’s upper arm.

“Dismissed.”

JD staggered to his feet and managed to walk out of the office. His secondary power kicked in, allowing him to make it a little ways down the hall before he had to lean against the wall and put all his effort into the fight to stay conscious.

An arm came around his shoulder, lifting him enough to drag him a few steps further down the hall.

“Get the fuck off of me,” He growled at Gideon, unwilling to accept help from the person whose fault this was.

Gideon ignored him and continued helping him walk. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what he would do.”

“Now you do.”

Unable to fight with Gideon and stay conscious, JD stopped speaking and they made their way to the hospital room together.

Gideon stopped by the door, “Can you make it on your own from here?”

JD nodded, chewing his lip until it bled to keep from screaming. He pushed the door open with his good shoulder and strode in.

All eyes turned from him as all the healers and nurses looked up from the minor injuries they were tending.

Before he could call her name, Deka was there. She pushed through the crowd, her height and confidence pushing people out of her way before she got close to them.

Once she had a decent grip on him, JD allowed his eyes to shut as she dragged him to a bed behind a curtain, away from all of the prying eyes. He passed out briefly, and woke up sitting on the bed while Deka fussed.

“Not again,” She muttered, eyeing the burn.

JD’s eyes flicked open so he could glare at her. “Yes, again. Just fix it.”

Her accented voice was disapproving, but somehow still soothing. “The pain is making you delirious, otherwise you would know better than to be rude to me, boy.”

Deka pressed on of her hands into the burn and the excruciating pain started. That was her ability, to heal. As with all abilities, it had limitations; hers was that the only way to heal someone was to have them feel all of the pain the injury had to offer at once. For a burn as bad as this one, it was a lot of pain.

She lifted her hand, and a frown creased her forehead. Her smooth, dark skin beaded with sweat as she went back to work. “You know, I really think that secondary of yours doesn’t do you any favors here. Most people would pass out, but your endurance keeps you awake and fighting. It would be better if you just slept through this part.”

“Just finish it, Deka.” He closed his eyes and braced himself for the next wave of pain.

It was over in minutes. When JD looked over at his arm, where the skin had been burned away was now a new scar to add to his collection.

“Thank you, Deka.”

She shook her head, lips pursed in disapproval. “I hate doing that.”

This was not the first burn Deka had healed for him, and they both knew it wouldn’t be the last. JD changed the subject before Deka could unwisely say something bad about the general. They were out of sight, but that didn’t mean no one was eavesdropping.   “You’re not from Sherwood, are you?”

Deka lifted one eyebrow in a look that somehow indicated her unusually dark skin and her accent, “Whatever gave me away?”

He ignored her, “What’s it like out there? Beyond the state?”

She clucked disapprovingly, “You meet one girl and you’re ready to brave the wilderness to run away with her!”

JD flushed, “That’s not what I meant!”

Deka continued to laugh at him, “She must be pretty!”

Biting his lip to keep from saying something defensive that would only give him away more, JD glared at her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, looking surprisingly like a teenager for a woman who was probably old enough to be his mother. “Fine. Outside of the state is a wilderness, there’s nothing there but endless trees and plants and animals that want to kill you. That part isn’t just state lies.”

“But are there other states?” JD asked eagerly, usually Deka was so quiet about her past; he had to seize any opportunity he saw to learn more about what she’d seen.

“There are. They are not all better than this one.”

It wasn’t much of an answer, but it gave him something to think about. He stood up to leave, but Deka stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“JD, be careful about this girl. You know I hear things that are going on, and they aren’t going well. Your father is on edge. You need to be careful.”

He nodded. Deka was probably the only person he trusted completely, and most of the time he took her advice. This time was different. “I’ll think about it.”

Her frown deepened. “JD… Be careful. You and I both know what happens to people who betray the rebellion.”

They did. No one knew better than them, in fact. But JD had a plan forming in his mind that he couldn’t shake away. He knew his father was working with Dyer to plan something against Westerburg, but that would take weeks to organize, even with the security plans. In the meantime, JD could try and get information from Veronica. 

* * *

The rest of the day was a nightmare. Veronica was exhausted and sore all over by the time Chandler released them from training and told them to shower.

“Veronica,” Chandler called after her, “Come to my room once you’re clean; there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Veronica made sure to take an extra long shower. She couldn’t think of any reason Chandler would want to talk to her especially, despite her efforts to come up with something. To the best of her knowledge, she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Still mystified, Veronica wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the shower, almost running right into another girl.

Terrified, the girl backed up. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, um…” Veronica trailed off, unable to remember the girl’s name, despite having seen her around Westerburg on a number of occasions.

“Martha,” The girl answered her unspoken question, “Martha Dunnstock.”

“Oh, right! The girl with the dream power, right?” Veronica was trying to be friendly, but Martha flinched.

Everyone made fun of her for her supposedly useless power, but Veronica envied it. If she had a power like that, she never would have ended up with the Heathers, she might not have met JD. Her life would be a lot simpler.

“Anyway,” Veronica said, too uncomfortable to stick around, “I have to go. Have a good night!” She waved and walked away; glad the conversation hadn’t lasted long. She didn’t have anything against Martha—unlike the others—but Martha was too quiet and awkward to really like.

Duke and McNamara were already settled in bed when Veronica returned from her shower. “That took forever, I was starting to think you were trying to drown yourself or something,” Duke said. McNamara ignored them.

Veronica pulled on a loose, comfortable pair of pants and a tank top, barely acknowledging Duke’s comment. “I have to meet with Heather, don’t wait up for me.”

Neither of them answered. Duke returned to her book and McNamara rolled over to go to sleep.

Chandler was waiting for her when she got to her room. “Veronica, glad you could finally make it.”

“Sorry, I was showering.” There was a long, awkward pause as if Chandler was waiting for her to elaborate. “So… What’s up?”

“I had a check-in with Chief Sentinel Gowan and Sentinel Fleming today. They were asking about your progress.”

“Oh.” It was all Veronica could think to say.

“So, how do you think you’re progressing, Veronica?”

Veronica could feel Chandler’s charisma thick in the air. It was tempting to spill out every thought she’d had since coming here. She could trust Heather, couldn’t she? Heather was her teammate, after all.

She had to shake her head to clear the influence out. “I think I’m doing pretty well. It’s been an adjustment, but I really like Heather and Heather. And you, of course!”

That wasn’t actually a lie. Despite all of the circumstances, Veronica did like Duke and McNamara, though she wished they would stand up to Chandler more often.

Chandler smiled. “Of course. I’m glad to hear you like your team. I’ll admit I was a little bit worried about how you felt about the state.”

“What do you mean?”

“You seemed suspicious when you first got here, and you seemed like you didn’t really believe what you’ve been taught. Then there was the incident with the rebel. I’m sure you understand why Gowan was concerned.”

Veronica nodded, “Yeah, I understand. I just… needed time to get used to things.”

Chandler smiled kindly. “I understand Veronica.”

Heather was using her power so much Veronica could almost smell it, and she strengthened her resolve against it. She didn’t want her mind changed. “I’m really tired from training, can I go now?”

Nodding, Heather let Veronica stand up and start to leave, but she grabbed her arm, letting her too long fingernails dig into Veronica’s skin. “Veronica, I want to be a sentinel, a real one. Nothing is going to keep me from that, and if you fuck this up,” Chandler squeezed extra hard and glared straight into Veronica’s eyes, “I will destroy you.”

Trembling slightly, Veronica left the room, waiting until Chandler’s door was closed before she sprinted down the hallway. When she got back to her room, the light was off and both Duke and McNamara were sleeping. She knew from weeks of sharing a room with them that they slept like the dead, so she didn’t worry about making noise as she went over to the window and opened it.

The fresh air felt nice on her face, and this was the closest thing to a taste of freedom she’d had since her failed attempt at running away at the ceremony. Once again, she found herself missing the diary she’d once kept. She had a million and one things she wanted to say about Heather Chandler, and no way to get them off her chest.

Frustrated, she flung herself onto her bed, but pulled herself into a sitting position immediately after. She was too keyed up to sleep, despite her exhausting day. Her mind raced, and she wished for some way to calm herself.

Glancing up, Veronica leapt to her feet. Someone was outside the window.

JD smiled, gesturing to the window slightly ruefully. “Dreadful etiquette, I apologize.”


	5. The Rebel on the Roof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Tumblr user Fangirlahead who sent me a prompt for a drabble that inspired me to write about half of this chapter. Thanks for your help! Enjoy.

JD tried to bite back a smile as he stared at Veronica’s shocked face. Even he was a little surprised at his boldness, but something about being burned earlier had made him want to fight back somehow.

Knowing full well that Deka was going to kill him, he’d broken into his father’s office again so he could look through the Westerburg plans. At the time, he’d just wanted to know if something like this was possible, but when he’d seen the flaw in the security, he’d had to act.

“You know, Westerburg’s security is designed more to keep you in than to keep other people out.” He kept his voice low, but Veronica still shot a panicked glance at her roommates, who hadn’t so much as stirred. “Look, if you’re worried about them, cone with me. We’ll go somewhere we can talk.” Attempting a charming smile, he held a hand out towards Veronica.

She looked unimpressed. “I can’t do that; I’ll be shot for treason.”

“I promise to have you back before anyone knows you’re gone. “ His grip on the window ledge was a little precarious, and he hoped she agreed fast.

“This… This is suicide, I can’t do this.” She moved forward as if she were about to close the window.

“Veronica, wait!” He adjusted his grip, pulling himself up more securely. “Don’t you just want to get away from it all? For one night, forget being a sentinel, forget Westerburg, and I’ll forget being a rebel. Tomorrow, we’ll go back to our lives and probably never see each other again, but for one night…”

He saw her glance around, taking in the plain room, her bed, and her teammates sleeping nearby. “Okay.”

Getting her through the window was surprisingly easy, and she leapt out onto the wall gracefully. He followed, crawling carefully until he reached the place where the invisible electric field got its power.

He pointed it out to Veronica. “Its weakness. Hit that with something and it goes down for about thirty seconds, just in this area.” He tapped it with the butt end of his knife and crawled through the gap.

Veronica followed. “Did you tell me that in case I ever decide to run away and join the rebellion?”

“I told you that because I thought you’d want to know. Relax, Veronica; I’m not going to try to recruit you.”

It wasn’t a lie. Though he knew he should, he didn’t want to recruit Veronica. Deka’s warning still rang in his ears and he wasn’t blind; his father was unstable. If the general was unstable, that meant the rebellion was too. It would be dangerous to drag Veronica in, even if he thought she could make a difference.

He’d come here wanting information, but now that he’d gotten Veronica, all he wanted was escape. Sensing the same need in her, he ignored his training and the part of him that was still desperately loyal to the rebellion.

For all he knew, she was having the same internal battle as she glanced back over her shoulder at the hulking structure of Westerburg Academy, looming against the night sky.

He thought she might ask to go back, but she turned away from the school to look at him. “Let’s go.”

The bike was still where he’d parked it not far from Westerburg’s walls, and he led Veronica to it. She smiled a little. “Nice bike, do they give those to all rebellion recruits?”

“No, I had to earn this.” He didn’t elaborate on it, instead he handed her the spare helmet he’d stolen from the armory and climbed on. Once she was settled behind him, he took off, pointing his bike in the direction of his favorite place in the city.

* * *

 

 

The rooftop was lit by moonlight, and the city spread out beneath them.  Veronica looked over the edge and admired the distant lights, tasting the freedom she’d been craving. JD hovered next to her, and she could feel his eyes on her, though she kept hers trained out over the edge.  

“I like it up here, the city looks less…”

“Awful?” JD supplied, moving to lean out over the edge next to her.

She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

They were silent for a little while, just staring out over the city. Veronica couldn’t help stealing quick glances at JD, trying to figure him out.

“Am I allowed to ask how you ended up in the rebellion?” She wasn’t sure what this night away was actually about, and he was hesitant to trust him. “Did you escape from Westerburg?”

“No.”

“Jefferson, then?” She threw out the name of another training center on the other side of the state.

“No, I’ve never been to any of the training centers. I’ve never even been to a school.”

“Never been to a school?” Veronica hadn’t even known that was possible. She’d thought everyone went to school.

JD shrugged. “My parents ran away from Westerburg together and joined the rebellion. I was born into it.”

“I didn’t know that was possible.” Everything she’d heard about the rebellion made it sound like a bunch of angry exceptions who ran away from training facilities or before their birthdays. She’d never heard of there being kids in the rebellion.

“There’s probably a lot you don’t know about the rebellion. From what I can tell, they don’t keep you very well informed.”

Stung, Veronica put a little distance between them. They’d been growing closer to each other as they were talking without her realizing it. “They tell us what they think we need to know.”

“They tell you what they _want_ you to know,” He corrected. “They would never tell you how we recruit, or what kinds of people we look for, or what our actual goals are—“

“Fine,” She interrupted, “Tell me.”

For a second he paused, obviously baffled, and Veronica smiled at her little victory, but he recovered quickly. “I can’t, I mean…”

Veronica quirked one eyebrow up. “It’s almost like you’re exactly as muzzled as we are.”

She noticed his jaw flexing slightly and she tried to contain her smile. She’d managed to knock him off his moral high ground.

Once again though, he came back from it. “Name someone you know with a useless power.”

“Martha Dunnstock.” The name came out almost instinctively; everyone knew Martha’s abilities were a waste. “She controls dreams. She can change them.”

JD frowned. “You think that’s useless? Clearly, you have never had a nightmare.”

Before she could argue—which she was about to—he continued. “She’s the kind of person we would recruit. You guys took her from her home because she had an ability that you all then decided to mock. She’s fed up with Westerburg and she’s fed up with the state, when suddenly she happens to bump into one of us on a mission. We offer her a place with us, a new family that would support her. I can’t tell you how many of those we have.”

“And is that what the rebellion is? Supportive? _Familial_?”

For some reason, JD flinched and turned away from her. “It can be, for some people. For others, it’s just a place to live if you don’t want to fight the state’s wars. Those people become nurses or guards or tech support, any job that doesn’t involve the actual fights.”

“Attacks, you mean? I know what you guys do.” His talk of choice stung a little, and she was eager to bring him back to even ground. The rebellion as an organization wasn’t as friendly as he was making it out to be. “You kill ordinaries, random innocent people.”

JD scoffed. “People who benefit from keeping exceptions trapped as slaves to the state.”

“They’re still people!”

“So are we!” He rounded on Veronica. “And when was the last time they treated you like a person?”

She searched for an example, but she hadn’t spoken to an ordinary since the party, and that wasn’t an example of equality. Even the sentinel instructors like Fleming and Chief Sentinel Gowan were constantly condescending. Veronica preferred training with Heather, which was saying something.

Taking her long pause as agreement, JD continued. “They haven’t, and they never will. Veronica, ordinaries don’t give a fuck about us.”

“That doesn’t mean they deserve to die,” Veronica said, still stubborn.

“Fine, but they don’t deserve to rule everything either. Exceptions can’t run for government, can’t have money, can’t even have a job other than sentinel unless they get bought out for marriage. Even with all the shitty propaganda they’ve fed you, surely you see how fucked up that is?”

Her reply was so quiet it was probably lost to the night. “Yeah, it is.”

They lapsed into silence, both lost in their thoughts, staring out over the city. Veronica wasn’t surprised they hadn’t managed to keep their promise to remain neutral for the night. He didn’t seem like the type to ignore something obvious and she certainly wasn’t.

Slowly, she saw the tension in him begin to relax and fade away. She let go of their argument, wishing they’d never gotten into it in the first place. Normally, she wouldn’t have defended the state and she wasn’t sure what had inspired her to do it with him, but when he talked about killing ordinaries, all she could think of was Betty Finn’s sweet face as they’d said goodbye.

Betty was an ordinary, but she’d always been kind to Veronica. She couldn’t be the only one like that.

Hating that they were spending their only night of freedom arguing with each other, Veronica decided to lighten the mood. Things were simpler when they were flirting, strangely enough. “So what kind of training do they give you? Do you think you could fight a sentinel?” She smiled and stepped away from the edge, holding her fists up playfully.

JD laughed and moved back with her. “I’ve been training my whole life, darling, you only just started.”

He moved to push her hands down and she ducked out of the way, swinging to tap him lightly in the ribs with her fist.  

He arched one eyebrow, “You don’t want to do that.”

“Yes I do.” She smiled wider and held still, waiting for him to make the next move.  

Eventually, he made up his mind and lunged forward, but she managed to dodge that too.  JD laughed, and tripped her having anticipated her movement. Catching her, he helped her keep her footing. “I told you--”

She didn’t let him finish; instead she elbowed him in the stomach (somewhat gently) and spun out of his grasp.  

Now the game was really on.

It was more like a game of tag than an actual fight. They got small hits in, taps to the back or sides that threw them off balance but didn’t hurt.

It was fun.

For the first time since arriving at Westerburg, Veronica was having real fun that she was sure had nothing to do with her new friend’s mind control ability.  

She laughed out loud, not caring that having her head thrown back left her vulnerable to attack. It felt good to know that she was in control of her feelings.

Seeing his opportunity, JD lunged for Veronica and managed to get his hands around her waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning so that when he set her down, she was still dizzy.

Veronica only let it bother her for a second before she moved back towards him, going for his shoulder in a move he easily ducked.

“This is why you guys haven’t beaten us yet,” JD goaded, stepping to the side.

Carefully schooling her face into a glare, Veronica took aim and threw an illusion of a rock at him. As expected, he ducked and she stuck out her foot, catching his ankle and pulling hard.

He fell, but managed to catch hold of the front of her shirt on the way, pulling her with him.

Veronica landed on top of JD and stopped mid-laugh. Their faces were inches apart. His eyes were on her lips.

Raising his head slightly, JD moved to close the distance and Veronica jumped off of him. She stepped back several feet and breathed in the night air, trying desperately to calm her racing heart.

JD had almost kissed her.

She had almost wanted him to.

He was on his feet again, moving towards her with his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I… I guess I misread the moment.”

Nodding, Veronica turned away from him and tried to hide her burning cheeks. She wondered if his abilities allowed him to sense heat.

If they did, he gave no indication that he was aware of her embarrassment. JD stood beside her on the edge of the roof, looking out. He placed a hand on her back. “Veronica, really; I’m sorry.”

She nodded again. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“No it isn’t. We both know what would happen if anyone knew where we were right now. I shouldn’t have made it more complicated than it already is.”

“You too?” She asked.

He paused, confused. “What?”

“I would be killed if anyone knew where I was right now, but I thought you were supposed to be here. Aren’t you recruiting me?”

JD shook his head. “No. I was going to, but I got into some trouble after the party. If the general decided to recruit you, he would have sent someone else.”

“Wouldn’t have worked,” Veronica said, smiling at him. “I wouldn’t betray the state for anyone else.”

“Does that mean you would betray it for me?” He asked, eyes gleaming with something she couldn’t name.

“No.” Ignoring the disappointment on his face, she continued. “If it was just the state, yeah, I would, but I can’t betray my team. I like Heather and Heather. Sometimes, I think I like Heather even without her powers. If it came down to a fight between me and them, I couldn’t kill them.”

“Could you kill me?”

She let his question hang in the air for a long time, thinking it over. “I don’t think so.”

JD nodded, accepting this. “I couldn’t kill you.”

He sounded so sure of his answer, and she admired his conviction. She felt so indecisive all the time, caught halfway between rebel and sentinel. It must be nice to know what you were fighting for, and to want to fight for it.

Forgetting caution for a second, Veronica rested her head on JD’s shoulder. “Thank you for taking me here. Even if it was just for one night, I’m glad I got out of there.”

“I wish we could do it again sometime.” He put his arm around her shoulders.

For a second, she felt her eyes well with tears, but she blinked them away. “We can’t. Not with the world the way it is.”

Turning a little so he could smile down at her, JD said, “We could change the world. If there were no more sentinels—“

“No, JD. Don’t do this. It’s… It’s not my fight.”

He pulled away from her. “It’s everyone’s fight! Don’t you see, Veronica? If it weren’t for the fucking state and the fucking sentinels, we wouldn’t have to hide on a fucking roof just to talk to each other!”

He was breathing hard, and Veronica reached over to touch his arm. “You know it’s not that simple.”

Relaxing slightly, he nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

She didn’t believe him, but she also didn’t want to argue so she fell silent and let him walk away.

He sat down in the middle of the roof and pulled something out of his pocket.

“You smoke?” Veronica asked, shocked.

JD laughed. “I have an overly developed sense of irony, you know, because of the fire—“

“Yes, yeah, I get it.” Veronica rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. JD was an idiot.

He held the pack of cigarettes out to her. “Do you want one?”

Sentinels weren’t allowed to smoke; they weren’t allowed to do anything that posed a potential health threat. Veronica took one.

“Do you trust me?” JD asked with a smile.

Confused, Veronica nodded, and there was a small flare of light as he lit her cigarette with his powers.

A self-satisfied smile spread across his face as Veronica felt herself go cross-eyed looking at her cigarette. Pretending not to be impressed, Veronica rolled her eyes. “Cool trick.”

He laughed and took a drag. “I assume you can do better?”

Veronica didn’t bother to reply. Instead, she created an illusion and wove it through the smoke he was inhaling, creating images of dinosaurs she remembered from school.

She sat back to watch his reaction, smiling when he did.

* * *

 

JD watched the shapes in the smoke, amazed at Veronica’s talent.

“Is that all you can do?” JD asked even though he knew about her secondary ability. Now that he was actually spending time with Veronica he felt a little odd about having looked her up in the hacked files.

“You didn’t notice?” Veronica teased, “I have agility as a secondary. What about you?”

“Endurance and strength are my secondaries, obviously fire is my primary.”

“Obviously. Do you do much with it? Besides light cigarettes, I mean.”

JD shook his head, “I avoid using it. Sometimes I think I don’t really have control over it when I’m using it, so I try to keep from going there.”

“I know what that’s like.” Veronica didn’t elaborate, and though he was curious, JD didn’t ask. She hadn’t hesitated to use her powers to show off; it didn’t make sense for her to understand not wanting to use them.

Conversation after that was casual. He avoided asking about Westerburg, because every time he thought about her going back there and acting like one of _them,_ his blood boiled and he got the sharp urge to burn something. She didn’t belong there, but he didn’t think she belonged with the rebellion either.

She was somewhere in between them, but someday soon he thought she might have to pick a side. He hoped she did it before his father decided to launch a full-scale attack on Westerburg.

The idea of Veronica caught in a fire his father had started made him sick.

“I should be getting you back,” He said, checking the time and realizing they’d been there for hours. He held out a hand to help her up.

“Jesus, your hands are freezing,” She said as she stood up.

JD shrugged. “I’m always cold, I think it’s the fire.”

“That explains the coat,” She muttered, making her way over to the ladder that would take them back to the street.

JD snorted, but didn’t try to defend his coat, which was also helpful for sneaking around in the dark. In fact, whatever Veronica thought, it was a useful article of clothing.

He left her at the break in the wall, watching her climb back towards the school until she vanished into the darkness.

The ride back to the hideout was quiet and uneventful. Sneaking in through the garage was easy, and JD was hardly worried about getting back to his room.

Until he ran into someone.

Immediately, he created a handful of flames, ready to defend himself, stopping only when he recognized the person.

“Deka? What the fuck are you doing?”

She crossed her arms and glared at him, waiting.

For a minute, he just stared back, until he finally realized what she wanted. “Sorry if you were waiting for me. I was just… out.”

“With the sentinel girl.”

“Veronica.”

Deka rolled her eyes. “Are you insane? Haven’t you been burned enough? I just told you that your father was on edge, and what do you do? You go right out to see her again! If he knew about this he would—“

“I know.” JD cut her off because he didn’t want to hear her say what Bud would do if he knew where JD had been tonight.

Deka sighed and nodded, her posture relaxing. “I’m not easily scared, JD, but you manage to do it very often.”

“I’m sorry, Deka. Should I warn you next time?” He was asking to be polite; he doubted there would be a next time. He and Veronica hadn’t said goodbye, but they’d left with an understanding that this would be the last time they’d see each other.

“Yes. I can cover for you if something happens.” Something about Deka’s angular face and glittering dark eyes made her hard to argue with, so JD didn’t try. Normally he would have, as he hated the idea of Deka getting into trouble for helping him, but he was tired. Leaving Veronica had been harder than he’d thought.

Deka placed a hand on his shoulder. “Something happened tonight, a mission. The general took only people he trusted completely. I don’t know what he did, but I’m worried, Jason. This could mean another war is starting. No more little attacks, no more hiding in shadows. Your father wants to bring us to the surface and make the state pay. You need to be careful.”

JD nodded absently, stuck on the fact that he had not been included with his father’s most trusted people. He tried to trick himself into believing that he didn’t mind. “I’ll be careful, Deka.”

She stepped away, allowing him to walk by her in the direction of his room. Before he’d managed to leave the hallway though, she called after him. “JD! I am sorry things cannot work out with this girl though. I would have liked to meet her.”

He allowed himself a moment of idiotic sentimentality. “You’d love her, Dek. She’s amazing.”

* * *

 

Veronica woke up the next morning exhausted, but aware that there was some kind of a disturbance happening in her room. She sat up to see Duke and McNamara pulling their uniforms on, faces pale and taut.

“Oh my god, Veronica, you’ll never believe what happened.” Duke was the first to notice that Veronica had woken up, and she raced over to her side.

Still groggy and lost, Veronica frowned. “What?”

McNamara cut in before Duke could explain. “It’s Heather, she… they went into her room this morning and…” She hiccupped strangely, like she was trying not to cry.

Irritated by the delay, Duke took over again. “She had an early meeting with Fleming that she missed, so they sent someone to her room to check on her.” Duke paused dramatically, “But she wasn’t there!”

Veronica’s heart jumped into her throat. “She… what?”

“She wasn’t there. Her room was trashed and Heather was just… gone.”

Gone.

McNamara was tense, angrier than Veronica had ever seen her. “They think she was kidnapped by rebels.”

Rebels had kidnapped Heather Chandler while Veronica and JD had been on a roof pretending they weren’t players in an enormous game of war.

Unless… Unless JD hadn’t left after he’d dropped her off at the wall. He might have gone back in, fought Heather and taken her back to the rebel hideout with him.

“Were there burns?” Veronica asked, hating herself for her naiveté.

McNamara nodded grimly. “Yes. There were scorch marks all over Heather’s room.”

The words hit Veronica like a bucket of icy water. JD. It had to be him. JD had kidnapped Heather Chandler.

 


	6. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! I'm finally back! I know it took me forever to update this, last week was a nightmare and I had no time to write and then I got hit with powerful writer's block that made it really hard to work on this. This chapter is dedicated to Tumblr user Marsibil-the-disir who sent me a bunch of asks about this universe that really helped me get a good start on working on this. Enjoy!

JD woke up to someone pounding on his bedroom door. Certain he had somehow been caught sneaking out last night, JD dressed slowly ready to face his fate.

Despite what he was about to endure, the night had been worth it. One night completely free, hanging out with someone he never should have even met. Even if he died today, he would have last night.

His only regret was that he hadn’t kissed Veronica. The attempt had been stupid and spur of the moment, but he’d found himself unexpectedly disappointed when she’d pulled away.

Pushing that thought out of his head, JD opened the door, and found a frantic Gideon waiting for him. “JD, I need to talk to you; it’s urgent.”

JD leaned out the door, searching the hallway for another of his father’s goons. He was certain this was a trick of some kind. Just yesterday Gideon had run straight to the general to tell him about what JD had done at the party.

But Gideon had also helped him get to Deka after being burned; did that count for something?

Deciding to see what this was about, JD nodded. “Follow me.” He was fairly certain his room was bugged, but he knew places that weren’t.

He led Gideon to a supply room. A couple weeks ago to recent recruits had been making out in there and had inadvertently broken the security camera. Everyone knew about it, but they hadn’t been able to get a replacement yet. It was a safe place to bring Gideon because it wouldn’t reveal any of the locations JD and Deka met in secret when they needed to bitch about the general.

“What?”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Not a fan of small talk?”

“We’re not friends. What do you want?”

“You don’t trust me, do you?” Gideon asked.

“Of course I don’t trust you. You sold me out yesterday, thank you for that, by the way.” JD glared at Gideon, who met his gaze evenly, not intimidated.

“Your father is insane.” Gideon’s voice was level, and JD couldn’t see any sign that he was lying. “I don’t want to be a part of a rebellion that’s led by someone who’s completely out of his mind.”

“Great, so leave,” JD snapped, though he found himself relaxing a little. He agreed with Gideon, and hearing someone call his father insane was endearing.

Gideon didn’t notice the shift. “I’m not leaving! But this… what happened last night wasn’t what I signed up for.”

“So why come to me?” JD asked. “Whatever you did last night isn’t my concern, and I don’t have as much power as people think I do.”

“I didn’t come to you because I thought you had power,” Gideon answered. “I thought that at first, it’s why I challenged you to that fight. But then I saw what he did to you, and I realized that you hated him. You hate him with every fiber of your being and you’re only here because of the cause. That’s the person I need right now.”

It was uncomfortable to know that someone had seen through him so well. No one else had ever bothered to try, except Deka, and he didn’t mind that because he trusted Deka. Now he had to decide whether he should trust Gideon, and what he would do if he didn’t.

The desperation in Gideon’s eyes wasn’t something that could be faked though, and while he’d seemed like a bit of a douche at first, he’d helped JD get to Deka though he had no incentive to do so. JD made up his mind. “Okay. What happened last night?”

Gideon must have seen the change in him because he sagged in relief. “The general called me and two other guys for a mission that he was leading—“

“He went himself?” JD asked, astounded. The general hadn’t been on a mission in years.

“Yeah. He told us we had to steal something from Westerburg, but when we got there… It wasn’t just plans or money or supplies or something. We were kidnapping a girl—“

JD interrupted again, “Who was she?” His heart skipped a beat as Veronica jumped into his mind. Surely his father wouldn’t go after her? JD had only talked to her once.

“Not the girl you were talking to. It was the blond one that was at the party, the one in the really flashy red outfit.” Gideon paused to raise an eyebrow. “I thought that girl was just someone you were recruiting?” He smiled a little.

“She is,” JD insisted, knowing it was a lie. “Tell me what happened.”

Gideon rolled his eyes but kept going. “We tried to grab her while she was sleeping, but she woke up and started fighting back. It was a mess, and she was so hard to fight. I just wanted to get to know her, you know? She made some really good points about the state—“

“What the fuck, man?”

“She has some kind of mind control power, it was strong! Anyway, your dad got involved and started to torch the place, she finally went down and we brought her back here…” Gideon trailed off.

“What happened then? Where did you take her? Is she hurt? Why did he want her?” Questions poured out of JD as fast as they occurred to him.

Sighing, Gideon brushed his hand over his short hair. “Do you really think I know any of that?”

JD didn’t. Bud kept his plans close to his chest, or—if he needed to share them—spread out information so that no one ever knew the whole plan. “Those are things we need to find out. Keep your ears open and let me know if you hear anything.” He paused, tilting his head. “Someone’s coming, let’s go.”

After he had already opened the door, JD realized it would have been smarter just to stay where they were, but it was too late. Moving as causally as possible, he stepped out into the hallway.

“JD?” Deka’s eyebrows arched up as she looked at him questioningly. She gestured to Gideon. “What were you doing in there with—Never mind, I don’t care as long as you’re over that sentinel girl.”

“Deka, first of all, no. Second, I was about to go find you.” Glancing around, JD spotted a camera in the corner of the hall. He would need to be subtle. “Last night’s dinner was overcooked, don’t you think?” _Do you know what happened last night?_

Her eyes lit up and she caught on immediately. “Yes, I went into the kitchen to try and sort it out.” _Yes, I had to heal the girl they brought back._

“Gideon was working in the kitchen last night and he was telling me about it.” _He was on the mission._

“Can we trust him on kitchen duty again?” Deka’s eyebrows lifted again as she gave Gideon a suspicious look.

JD followed her gaze. “We don’t have a choice, no one else wants the job.”

Gideon watched the exchange was badly disguised confusion. “Wait, I thought—“

Silencing him with a glare, Deka hissed, “Not here!” And grabbed Gideon’s arm, leading him down the hall. JD followed at a distance; he knew where they were going and he didn’t want to arouse too much suspicion.

After ten minutes of pointless rambling around the hideout, JD made his way to a small room off of the infirmary. It was harshly lit and the only furniture was an old fashioned gurney, positioned next to a sink that didn’t work.

“What is this place?” Gideon asked as JD walked in.

Deka smiled. “It’s a surgery. I demanded the general get rid of the cameras because I couldn’t work with them pointing at me. I’ve saved a lot of lives, so he listened.”

Gideon frowned. “But I thought you could heal people by touching them, why would you need to be a surgeon?”

“I heal people with pain. You didn’t notice because of your abilities, but what I do can be excruciating. Sometimes, I need to take care of a wound a little bit before I can heal it, otherwise the pain would kill them. That only happens with severe wounds though, gunshots and the like.”

JD had heard this explanation, and had even had a couple of injuries Deka had almost refused to heal. She’d done it anyway after deciding that his endurance secondary was enough to keep him alive.

“So, you guys meet here to talk about he secret rebellion? Are there other people?” Gideon was practically breathless with excitement.

Deka eyed him, “What on earth is he talking about, JD?”

“I have no idea.”

Gideon stared at them. “You guys had a secret code, you have a meeting room, this is like a secret rebellion inside the rebellion, right?”

“If you ever say anything like that again, I’ll kill you,” JD threatened, filling one hand with flame just to prove his point.

Gideon’s smile faltered. “But… what are we doing here if we’re not planning a secret rebellion?”

“Just talking, and seeing if there’s anything we can do about things. _Without_ getting anyone killed,” Deka said. “So tell us what you know.”

No one would have dared argued with Deka when she used that tone or that level gaze, and Gideon didn’t try to. “We kidnapped that girl— had to burn her into submission—I know she’s the enemy, but she was our age. It just… it wasn’t what I signed up for. Then once we got back, the general told us all to go. He gave us orders not to tell anyone what we’d done.”

JD turned to Deka. “You were probably the next person to see her, where was she?”

“Your father brought her to the infirmary and woke me up. I healed her and then he took her away. He was heading east towards the stairs, so I went to get you to help me follow him, but you weren’t in your room.” Deka’s dark eyes burrowed into JD and he fought to keep from flinching. “So I lost him. I’m not sure where he took her.”

“Probably to the third level basement. It used to be some kind of storage facility; it’s full of containers that would make perfect cells if you needed to keep a prisoner.” JD had explored this place more than almost anyone, and he knew all the best places to hide himself and the things that were important to him. The storage basement was eerie and packed with massive, empty shipping containers; he avoided it for the most part, except as a place to practice burning when he needed too.

Gideon nodded. “That would make sense, the east staircase and elevator three have full time guards now, which is new. They used to only have night check guards.”

JD suddenly had a new appreciation for Gideon. There were things he might be able to find out that JD couldn’t. “Good to know. Try to get assigned guard duty there, but be subtle. We might be able to find out who else knows whatever my dad’s planning.”

Deka nodded. “Good. I’ll keep my ears open; people talk more freely in the infirmary and I might be able to learn something.”

“What will you do?” Gideon asked JD.

“I can break into my father’s office to see if he wrote down any of his plans, or there might be something—“

“No.” Deka cut him off, her accent thick with rage and her eyes blazing. “You will not do that. I refuse to heal more burns on you. I won’t do it.”

They both knew she was lying. If he came in with any injury, Deka would heal him, always. He knew that. But she’d made her point clear and he didn’t argue with her.

“Fine, then what should I do?” He raked a hand through his hair, “This might be some kind of hostage negotiation? But why take a trainee? And why Heather Chandler?”

“Only your father knows that,” Deka said.

“And he’s a crazy person,” Gideon added.

Deka glanced over at him. “Honestly, I might start to like this friend of yours,” She said conversationally to JD.

JD was too frustrated with unanswered questions to joke with her. “He’s not my friend. If I can’t break into the office, at least let me go back to Westerburg to talk to Veronica. She might be able to help.”

“Don’t be an idiot! She won’t want to help you. She probably thinks you used her!” Deka had a special way of speaking that wasn’t yelling, but still indicated her frustration and managed to make him feel like an idiot.

“What?”

She sighed. “JD… you left her last night. This morning, she woke up and found her teammate missing and scorch marks on the wall. Fire is too rare of a power for her to assume that there’s someone else in the rebellion who can do that. Unless you told her about your father?”

JD hadn’t told Veronica about Bud. He hadn’t wanted to admit to being the general’s son, and he hadn’t wanted to betray any secrets just in case. Now he wished he hadn’t been so careful.

“I have to go, I have guard duty,” Gideon said, but both Deka and Gideon ignored him and he walked away.

“I have to see her, I have to explain.”

Deka shook her head, but her eyes were sympathetic. “If you go back there, she’ll turn you in. She may not like the state, but she’ll think you—and by extension the rebellion—betrayed her. I’m sorry JD.”

He nodded, fighting back the absurd stab of sadness that was fighting its way up from his stomach. Before he said something stupid, JD turned away willing himself to accept the fact that Veronica hated him.

* * *

Veronica hated JD. If he ever had the nerve to show up here again, never mind turning him in to the sentinels, she would shoot him herself. That absolute bastard had betrayed her and left her wading in a massive mess.

“Veronica, why did you ask about scorch marks?” McNamara asked as the three of them looked over the crime scene that Chandler’s room had become.

Hesitating, Veronica considered her options, and decided to lie through her teeth. Perhaps, if she was a different kind of person, this is when she would have confessed what had happened last night, but she wasn’t. “I just… the fire starter got away because of me, and then he came back for Heather. This is my fault.” She blinked a couple times, feigning fighting back tears.

Heather Duke patted her back gently. “We don’t blame you, Veronica.”

“Actually, Heather,” A voice from behind her said, “Maybe we do.” Kurt, flanked by his team, was sneering at the three of them.

 _They know._ Bile rose in Veronica’s throat as she began to work out a plan of escape. Kurt spoke again before she had a chance to do anything drastic. “Sentinel Fleming has requested a meeting with the three of you this afternoon. We’re going to take over guarding the crime scene, so you three should just move along.”

“Is the blood still there?” Maxwell asked, his yellowish brown eyes gleaming with malice as he craned his neck into the room, searching for signs of gore.

McNamara frowned, “There is no blood; heather’s not dead. She’s still coming back.”

Veronica doubted that, though there was a part of her that wished McNamara could be right. Westerburg felt strangely hollow without Chandler’s enormous, tangible personality.

“We told you to move, so get lost,” Ace said, cracking his knuckles.

Next to her, Veronica felt both Duke and McNamara tense. Everyone knew that he wouldn’t have dared to say anything like that if Chandler was around.

“We’re going,” Veronica said decisively before someone said something that started a fight. Both Heather and Heather seemed delicate, and she was on edge and ready to hit someone. The hallway outside of Chandler’s room felt full of pressure, ready to explode, and Veronica wasn’t looking to get into a fight unless she had to; it would only lead to more trouble.

Getting out of there made it easier to breathe, but the clarity reminded her what they were heading into. A meeting with Fleming was a bad sign. As Gowan’s second in command, she had the power to convict them for treason.

Only she wouldn’t be convicting them; she would be convicting Veronica.

“Let’s blow off class and go to the gym,” Veronica suggested. They were supposed to be in a history class, but she was far too keyed up to sit through a boring, edited lecture.

McNamara actually smiled at that, “Oh yes please! I can’t stand sentinel Harding’s lectures.”

Duke shuffled her feet, glancing down the hall. “I guess it couldn’t hurt. I mean… we’re grieving, right?”

Veronica linked their arms, “That’s the spirit! Let’s go hit some stuff.”

If Chandler had been there, she would have asked them to fight each other. She wasn’t, so they hit punching bags.

“Whoa, Veronica, take it easy! You’re going to break the bag,” McNamara teased as Veronica landed yet another punch to the center of the bag.

Breathless, Veronica looked up and Heather Duke abandoned her bag to laugh at her. “God, Veronica, where is your head at? You were hitting that thing like it killed your dog.”

“I was just working through stuff. It helps me think.”

“Hitting stuff helps you think?” McNamara asked. “God, remind me to stay away from you when exams start.” She laughed, and Veronica and Duke both joined in.

It was strange, to stand here laughing, knowing that Heather Chandler could be dead or injured, but Veronica couldn’t find it in herself to feel sad. She was angry at JD, but she just wasn’t upset that Heather was gone.

“I hope we don’t get in trouble for skipping class,” Duke said, unwrapping her wrists and taking a seat against the wall.

“They should have given us the day off,” McNamara abandoned her bag as well, sitting down next to Duke.

Veronica didn’t want to stop taking out her aggression on the bag, but she did. “What do you think Fleming wants?”

“Maybe we need a new teammate?” McNamara didn’t seem excited about the idea.

“She probably just wants to question us about Heather. It just seems so weird that none of us woke up. Veronica, you’re sure you didn’t hear anything? Your bed is closest to the door.” Duke’s wide green eyes turned on Veronica.

“I was exhausted from practice last night, I crashed as soon as I laid down. I feel so bad about it…” All of it was a lie, but it seemed to convince the other two.

“The sentinels will find her and get her back,” McNamara said, her confidence in the state utterly unwavering.

Duke sounded almost sad when she replied. “Yeah, they will.”

“Guys, we should probably shower, our meeting with Fleming is in an hour.” Veronica stood and brushed nonexistent dirt off of her uniform.

They walked together to Fleming’s office, with Duke leading the way. Veronica breathed carefully, keeping her shoulders square and her eyes up. Whatever happened, she would be ready for it.

No matter what, she would get out of this alive.

Fleming was standing behind her desk chair, her stance authoritative and imposing. She was smiling, but it was a little off, too empty of emotion. It made Veronica shiver. “Girls, welcome.”

Chief Sentinel Gowan was standing unobtrusively in the corner of the office, acting as though he expected them not to notice him. Veronica nodded her head in greeting, just to prove it wasn’t working.

Veronica sat with Heather and Heather on uncomfortable chairs in front of Fleming’s desk. It was hard not to feel tiny and nervous in this position, surrounded by the black marble and steel décor of the office.

“Girls,” Fleming began, “I’m sure you know the tragedy that brings you to my office.”

They all nodded.

“Heather Chandler was a very important part of our program, and we want to make sure we get to the bottom of this whole, sordid affair. We’ll start with last night. Was Heather acting odd in any way? Did she seem nervous or upset at all?

Duke frowned, “No, Sentinel Fleming. She was normal when I spoke to her, but Veronica was probably the last to see her.”

All eyes turned to Veronica. “I—I—yes, I was the last person to see her, probably.”

“And?” Fleming’s eyes bored into Veronica’s forehead. “What did she say?”

Veronica hung her head and summoned all the willpower necessary to put on a performance as good as the one she needed. “She… she wanted to tell me that she thought I was doing well, but she… she didn’t think I was loyal,” Veronica let the words come out as a choked whisper, letting a couple tears slip from her eyes. “I hate to think that might be the last thing she thought about me. That what happened to her was my fault.” Leaning down, Veronica hid her face on Duke’s shoulder, pretending to cry.

When she had collected herself, Gowan moved closer, bringing himself into the conversation. “I’m sure you all know that Ms. Chandler was a… personal project of mine. When she arrived here, I saw her as an opportunity to create the perfect sentinel. Ms. Duke, Ms. McNamara, you are extensions of this same idea. Because this was my goal, Heather was in a unique position. She knew things that other trainees wouldn’t know. In that way, I believe I painted a target on her back. Heather was young and vulnerable.”

Veronica doubted anyone had ever referred to Heather as vulnerable before, but she didn’t say anything. She was too fascinated by Gowan’s words.

“I believe I may have put Heather at risk from the rebels and I believe she may have fallen victim to their schemes.”

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. The shock from Gowan’s words seemed to have a smell that settled around the room, lingering in hair and clothes.

McNamara seemed to have been struck completely mute, but Duke’s surprise was far from silent. “But sir! That’s impossible, Heather was—No one loved the state as much as Heather! She would never—“

“A front, we believe,” Fleming cut in smoothly. “As was the destroyed room, and even adding Ms. Sawyer to your team.”

“What do I have to do with this?”

“I believe Heather wanted to pin all of her crimes on you. Especially after that unfortunate incident with the fire starter at the introduction ceremony, Veronica was a perfect scapegoat. I’m so sorry.”

Her compassion rang false to Veronica; she was good at spotting a lie, and Fleming didn’t seem to believe a single word that she was saying. Veronica played along anyway, gasping occasionally, or looking at Gowan for guidance.

He just nodded sympathetically in the face of her distress.

McNamara finally broke her silence to whisper a tiny, broken, “What now?”

Gowan put an almost fatherly hand on her shoulder, “Now, we move forward and we try to control the damage. Ms. Duke, you are the team leader until further notice.”

Duke nodded, “Thank you, Sir. I’m honored.”

“I’m sure you’ll do us proud Ms. _Duke_ ,” Fleming said, emphasizing Heather’s name strangely.

Veronica was surprised that they’d picked Duke over McNamara. She wasn’t the strongest fighter, and she hadn’t been at Westerburg for as long. Surely McNamara made more sense?

She had to give up that train of thought. Nothing made sense anymore.

“Thank you, ladies, for coming to meet with us. We understand that this is a shock, but we wanted to be honest with you.” Gowan gestured that they could stand, and they filed towards the door.

Heather had just reached out to open the door when Gowan spoke again. “Girls, just in case Heather returns to the school, remember that she is not your teammate. She’s a traitor. If you see her again, your orders are to kill on sight. Dismissed.”

Hours later, lying awake in bed, Veronica’s thoughts chased themselves around in circles. Nothing was adding up. JD had betrayed her to kidnap Heather, who the sentinels believed was a rebel.

A thought occurred to her and she sat bolt upright. JD had told her how the rebels recruited trainee spies. People with weaker powers who were fed up with the state and everything it touched.

Heather Chandler was none of those things. JD had kidnapped her for some other reason, and the sentinels weren’t trying to figure out what it was. A dreadful certainty settled in Veronica’s stomach like concrete; she was the only one who would be able to get to the bottom of this.


	7. Day Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I've been swamped with life and with some really bad self-doubt so writing has been hard. Finally got it done though. Enjoy.

The next day passed uneventfully for JD. Gideon proved himself to be not completely useless by getting a position guarding the door to the east staircase. JD was careful not to speak to him as he passed by, but there was something tense about the way Gideon’s eyes followed him down the hall.

They both knew they had a secret.

It wasn’t a good feeling. JD gone years without doing anything that worked against his father in any way, and the fact that he hadn’t technically gone against him yet was cold comfort. It felt like it was only a matter of time before Bud did something that would force JD into action. He hoped when the time came he would be ready.

Veronica wasn’t far from his thoughts. With nothing to do but wander the base and worry, he turned their conversations over and over in his head, peeling them apart for some hint that maybe she trusted him enough to avoid suspecting him immediately.

He didn’t find one.

They’d spoken to each other twice. She’d saved his life once. JD doubted that she would give him the benefit of the doubt twice. He hadn’t really earned it, and the scorch marks in Heather Chandler’s room were damning evidence.

A part of him kept getting caught on what Deka had said yesterday about how she would be furious because she thought he’d used her. He didn’t really believe that Veronica cared enough about him to feel hurt by that. For that to be the reason behind her anger felt too… intimate.

If there was one thing his relationship with Veronica wasn’t, it was that.

After several laps around the base that accomplished nothing, he headed back to his room. At the last second, he turned off and made his way to the dining hall. Sometimes the news was on in there and he might be able to hear what was going on at Westerburg.

The news was the usual propagandistic drivel. The only highlight was when the reporter mentioned the rebels and the entire dining hall let out a cheer. For that one second, JD remembered that he was a part of something much bigger than him, something worth dying for.

The moment faded after a few seconds, but the burst of loyalty to the rebellion twisted in his stomach as he thought about the stolen time he’d spent in the operating room with Deka and Gideon.

“This is a secret rebellion inside the rebellion,” Gideon had said. JD had denied it, and he still would if Gideon asked again, but some part of him liked the idea.

After everything JD had been through, and everything he knew the general had done, there was a part of him that wanted to seize power for himself. Perhaps he wouldn’t be the best leader, but at least he couldn’t get kicked around, burned, and beaten if he was the one in charge.

JD shook away those risky thoughts; he wasn’t a traitor. He knew better.

Still unsettled, he left the dining hall with no particular destination in mind, though he was heading in the direction of his room.

With his mind elsewhere, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and he nearly crashed into Dyer as he rounded a corner. The look on the man’s pointed face was comical enough that JD didn’t feel the usual dread he associated with Dyer.

As soon as Dyer had recovered himself, JD remembered that seeing him was always a bad sign, as it usually meant speaking to his father.

“The general wants to speak with you.”

Maintaining a neutral expression, JD nodded and brushed past Dyer in the direction of his father’s office.

Dyer had to trot to keep up with him. “He didn’t say what he wanted, but I have my suspicions,” an evil smile spread across his face.

JD ignored his pounding heart. There was no way his father could have overheard his conversation with Deka and Gideon. Neither of them would have betrayed him, and the operating room was free of bugs and safe from prying eyes.

No. His father couldn’t know about that, so this must be about something else. If someone had found out about his trip to see Veronica, he would be in trouble, but he was fairly certain that only Deka knew about that.

He was usually so careful about staying under his father’s radar and not doing anything to get into trouble, the fact that since meeting Veronica he’d done so much that went against his code was alarming. Normally he didn’t have to search through so many options to figure out why his father wanted to see him.

“Well?” Dyer said, narrowing his eyes at JD. “Do you know why your father wants to see you?”

Feigning nonchalance, JD shrugged. “Probably a mission. I haven’t had one since the party. Maybe he knows what he wants to do with the Westerburg plans.”

JD was careful not to lie. Dyer could see when other people were lying, but it wasn’t a perfect talent. JD had figured out a couple of very effective loopholes. Avoiding questions or providing indirect answers were not technically lies. JD truly didn’t know why his father wanted to see him, even if he had some ideas.

Huffing at the fact that he hadn’t caught JD in a lie, Dyer continued down the hall until they reached the office.

Bud was standing behind the desk, facing the wall. JD briefly wondered whether the general typically stood like this in his empty office or if it was some kind of power play. There was never any way to tell with his father.

“Dismissed.” The first word out of Bud’s mouth was harsh and short.

JD didn’t moved. He had been summoned, and he was sure the order hadn’t been meant for him.

Dyer fidgeted next to him. “But Sir—“

“Dismissed, Dyer.” Some heat left the room and it was all JD could do to keep from flinching as Bud turned around. Cold meant Bud was preparing to burn.

Dyer fled, closing the door swiftly behind him.

JD stood his ground, waiting for his father to speak. He had learned long ago to always let Bud speak first.

Silence reigned for longer than usual as Bud stood, apparently lost in thought. JD started to relax slightly, before catching himself and straightening up again. This could be another tactic, and he wasn’t going to be caught unawares.

“Jason, I have a mission for you.”

The words were a relief, but JD didn’t let that show in his face or his posture, both of which remained rigid. “Yes, Sir?”

Bud shuffled some papers around on his desk absently. “I believe some new bill is being introduced at city hall tomorrow. I’d like to know what it contains. Don’t be noticed, just find out about the bill and any other useful gossip you may come across, then return and report back. Do you understand?”

JD nodded once, sharply. “Yes, Sir.”

“Excellent. Dismissed.”

As the door shut behind JD, he thought back through the conversation. It was one of the better interactions he’d had with his father, having been short and fire-free. That was a relief.

The mission was interesting too. It had been a while since JD had involved himself in any kind of politics outside of the rebellion. Though he liked to wander the city in search of gossip, he stuck to the common people. Gowan was the chief sentinel at Westerburg, and the only exception who was allowed to introduce laws to the State senate for appeal.

Even if he suspected that the mission might be some kind of trap from his father, JD was eager for it. Trying to understand anything that was happening at city hall would be a distracting challenge.

Before leaving, he made a quick stop at the infirmary to see Deka. She wasn’t with a patient at the time, which was lucky.

“Deka, I have a mission tomorrow; be ready in case I come back bleeding.” He smiled a bit to soften his words, but Deka didn’t seem amused.

A frown creased her forehead. “A dangerous mission? JD, I don’t like the sound of that, or the timing.” She glanced around to make sure no one was trying to overhear their conversation. “This could be a trap.”

JD nodded. “It could be, but I don’t think it is. He wants be to return with information. It’s not an attack.”

His words did nothing to ease her dark expression. “If he knows that we know what he’s been up to, he might want you dead. This could be a way to make that happen.” They’d both seen people sent on impossible missions as a form of punishment. They hadn’t seen those people return.

“We don’t know what he’s been up to,” JD reminded her. “But if I go on this mission and do it well he’ll stop being pissed at me. He might even let me in on whatever his plans are for Heather.”

“Be careful!” Deka insisted, but he noticed that it wasn’t an argument. “And whatever you do, don’t try to see the girl.”

It was a tempting thought, but not one he allowed himself to entertain. “Don’t worry, Dek. I know better than that.”

* * *

The strangest thing about the next day was that Heather was gone still gone. In the morning, Veronica woke up, got dressed, ate with Heather and Heather and went to class. All without Heather Chandler.

Class even managed to be boring, no one discussed Heather Chandler, though Veronica could almost sense how much everybody wanted to talk about it. It wasn’t every day that one of the most powerful people in school went missing.

At lunch, they were free to talk about whatever they wanted, and everyone took advantage of it. All eyes were on Duke, McNamara, and Veronica, and she could hear their names in the whispers.

Veronica hated it. She felt as though every one of her secrets was painted on her skin for everyone to read. Her heart started to race.

Martha was the only one to approach them, and she did so timidly. “I’m sorry about Heather. I had no idea…”

“No one had any idea!” Duke snapped, and a terrified Martha scurried away.

For a moment, Veronica considered scolding her for her cruel treatment of the other girl, but she didn’t bother. Though it seemed unlike Duke to be needlessly unkind, Veronica assumed it was the stress of being a leader that was getting to her. She hadn’t yet had to make any decisions, but Veronica didn’t want to imagine the pressure. That would make anyone snappish.

“Class was a drag today,” Duke said, her voice forced into casualness.

Nodding, McNamara said, “Yeah, nothing ever happens in that class, and we learned most of that last year.”

Veronica had not learned any of it last year, but she hadn’t cared enough to try to learn it today. Her mind was too busy trying to piece together everything she knew about Heather Chandler into something that resembled a reason for her kidnapping or betrayal. Nothing was adding up.

For a single second, she let herself wish she could speak to JD, just to demand a few answers.

She shook that thought away as fast as she could. She didn’t need him, and when she found him, he would have hell to pay.

Duke had turned her attention to the scrap of fabric that McNamara was playing with. “Where did you get that?” Veronica looked closer and realized it was Chandler’s red headband; the one she’d worn despite uniform code forbidding it.

Startled, McNamara looked up. “It was in Heather’s locker by the training facility.” Heather paused, looking at it. “She would probably want you to have it Heather, now that you’re the leader.” She handed it over reluctantly.

Duke took it with something that resembled reverence. “Yes… she would want me to have it.”

The absurdity of it all was getting to Veronica and with a racing heart; she stood up and walked out of the cafeteria.

How could they talk about headbands and classes when Heather Chandler was gone, and Gowan and Fleming were trying to cover it up?

The state itself was driving her mad. All the secrecy and the lies used to keep exceptions loyal and trapped. Not that the rebellion was much better. She’d spoken to JD twice and he’d still lied to her and hidden as much as the state had. And he’d betrayed her, distracted her so she wouldn’t suspect that he would try to do something to Westerburg.

She hated the state and she hated the rebellion, and most of all she hated herself for being caught in the middle of the two.

Not for the first time, she envied Betty Finn’s ordinary, unexceptional life.

Somehow, she’d wandered into the locker room and she breathed in the calming silence. It was the first time she’d really been alone since her arrival at Westerburg.

Of course it couldn’t last. Heather McNamara arrived moments after her, her hair windswept from running. “Veronica, Gowan wants us in his office. Now.”

“Again? We were just there yesterday—“

“Now, Veronica!” Heather’s eyes were wide, almost panicked.

Rolling her eyes, Veronica pushed off of the locker she’d been leaning against. “Alright, fine.”

Gowan’s office was even more ostentatious than Fleming’s. When Veronica and McNamara arrived, Duke was already there, standing with Kurt and Ram.

Veronica’ bit back her distaste and tried to look away from Kurt’s intense stare. He seemed suspicious, and that made her nervous. Maxwell had said he thought she let JD go on purpose. It would make sense that his whole team felt the same way.

She made a mental not to be careful around them.

Once they were all standing at attention in front of his desk, Gowan spoke. “I am introducing a very important document to city hall today, and I would like the five of you to come with me as security. You’re to follow behind me, and not leave my side unless there is an attack you must prevent, do you understand?”

Everyone nodded solemnly. It was an important job, and Veronica felt oddly honored to be trusted with it, despite not liking Gowan very much.

She was also relieved to be allowed out of Westerburg. The eyes of the students couldn’t follow her to city hall.

Once Gowan had dismissed them, they returned to their rooms to gear up. “Are you bringing weapons?” Veronica asked.

“Yes,” McNamara said, holding up a collapsible baton that she tucked into the belt of her black and yellow uniform.

“No.” Duke pulled on the chest piece of her body armor. “I can just use my powers.”

Veronica shrugged and grabbed her gun, tucking it into a holster at her side. She felt stronger with it there, though in a fight she would probably rely on her abilities first, rather than a weapon.

Duke looked them over before they left, a nervous smile on her face. “Let’s go.”

* * *

City hall was crowded with people milling around searching for gossip or selling food. JD tried to blend in, standing near a few tall men who were discussing the results of a recent trial.

He noticed them the second they walked in.

He noticed _her_ the second she walked in.

She was wearing the same hideous blue uniform she’d worn to the party, only this time she hadn’t tried to cover it with a coat. She walked in step with a well-dressed older man who carried a large stack of papers. Around him were four other sentinel trainees, two of whom JD recognized from the party. The other two were tough looking guys who scanned the room for any sign of threat.

Based on the security, JD could only assume that this man was Chief Sentinel Gowan, a man who shamelessly used his students as human shields in case of attack.

Ducking around a corner so that Veronica couldn’t see him, he watched the party cross the hall towards the state senate room. He took a service stairway to the upper level observation room. Striding confidently through the door, he tried to act like he knew what he was doing so no one would stop him.

No one did. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm his racing heart. The more nervous he got, the more likely he was to start a fire by accident and that wouldn’t help anything. No one paid him any attention as he took a seat where he could see and hear Gowan and his guards.

Veronica looked tense, especially compared to the two boys and the blond Heather, all of whom looked bored. The other girl was watching her teammates with badly disguised interest.

The room fell silent as the Imperator called the senate session to order. “The assembly will come to order! Today’s business is a new proposal from Chief Sentinel Gowan. You may proceed, Sentinel.”

Standing up, Gowan cleared his throat. “I would like to propose a new system for the training of exceptions to become sentinels. In order to proceed with this system, I would require students to be admitted into the academies eight years earlier than they are currently. This means that exceptions would be organized based on their tenth birthday instead of their eighteenth.”

JD noticed that the two Heathers exchanged a glance while Gowan was talking. He couldn’t figure out all the emotions behind the brief look, but he thought they seemed scared.

Veronica’s eyes searched the senate, as if she were searching for people who disagreed with Gowan. JD hoped she saw some; the idea of rounding up exceptions that young and tossing them into academies was horrifying.

And it would make recruitment even more difficult for them. It was much harder to smuggle ten year olds out of their homes before their eighteenth birthdays than eighteen year olds.

Gowan’s plan was brilliant in the worst possible way.

Tension rose in JD’s chest and with it came the instinctive desire to burn. He tried to push it down and regain control. The whole point of his abilities should have been the power to control fire, but his anger at Gowan and the fear of being caught that had been with him since he got here were becoming overpowering.

He didn’t realize that the flames had started curling around his hand until one of the women in the room with him screamed.

Her call got the attention of the sentinel guards, and of Veronica and her teammates. The guards were easy; JD elbowed past them and ran, not checking to see if they were still standing. He took the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping in his panic.

It didn’t help. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, the two guys and the blond Heather were waiting for him.

“Stop!” Heather called, pulling out a baton that she looked ready to use.

JD set it on fire, and she dropped it in a hurry. There was another exit he could take, if he managed to get past the guys. As much as he hated to do it, he set another fire. He couldn’t make himself set them on fire, instead choosing to ignite the ground at their feet.

The wall of flame did its job, and they both backed away from his exit. Running at full speed, JD tore through the flames, feeling the heat but no pain.

He had made it, the door was just ahead of him and

“JD!”

His head turned towards his name instinctively, but he couldn’t find the source of the voice. The split second pause was too long. Veronica came flying in out of nowhere, tackling him to the ground.

The air left his body as he pushed her off. It was a twisted version of the game they’d played on the rooftop, with her scrabbling to capture him and him just trying to get away. The wall of fire still separated them from her teammates.

He just barely managed to get his arms around her, squeezing jus hard enough to keep her from hurting him. “Veronica, listen. I know where your friend is, but I had nothing to do with taking her. You have to believe me; we can help each other,” He hissed in her ear.

Veronica squirmed, trying to get free. “Why the hell should I trust you?”

“Do you trust them?” He jerked his chin in the direction of her teammates.

She didn’t answer; just put more effort into trying to get away from him.

“He has her hostage!” The shout came from someone behind the fire, and it gave him a brilliant idea.

Dragging Veronica with him, he continued moving towards the door. “Heather Chandler is alive. I don’t know what the general is planning, but he’s keeping her alive for now.” His back was against the door. “Try to trust me, Veronica.”

With that, he pushed her forward, extinguished the fire, and disappeared through the door.

By the time they’d reached the alley outside city hall, he’d made it to the roof of the neighboring building. He watched the two male members of Veronica’s team stumble through searching for him.

In a situation that wasn’t so deadly, it would have made him laugh.


	8. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, am I right? I'm so sorry this took so long, but hopefully the next update won't be as difficult. Thank you so much to everyone reading this. Enjoy!

Veronica’s head hurt.

JD had pushed her to the ground and made his escape, and she hadn’t managed to recover her balance. Her head had smashed into the marble floor of city hall, leaving her dazed.

The fire went out as soon as he left the building. Kurt and Ram dashed out after him, but Veronica doubted they would catch him. He had a way of getting out of impossible situations.

The thought brought a bitter smile to her face.

Heather McNamara was hovering over her. “Veronica, are you okay? Can you hear me? Do you remember your name?”

Her barrage of questions was annoying, but her concern was kind of touching. “Yeah, Heather, I’m fine. Is Gowan okay? Was he under attack?”

Shaking her head, Heather helped her sit up. “Heather stayed with Chief Sentinel Gowan. We have no idea what the fire starter wanted, or why he was here. He tried to leave before he burned anything.”

Veronica mulled that over. What had JD been doing at city hall? Why had he been watching Gowan’s proposal?

Gowan’s proposal. That brought up a whole new slew of problems. Veronica groaned aloud, glad that her bleeding head wound gave her an excuse to do so.

The crowd of people from the senate room made their way out, filling the entrance hall and making Veronica’s head pound. Heather Duke stood next to Gowan, her stance alert, searching for signs of trouble.

There were none, and when Kurt and Ram returned, Veronica realized why. JD had gotten away completely, and they hadn’t even managed to follow him or see which way he’d gone.

Gowan was obviously furious and humiliated as his students failed so publicly. “Trainees! We’re leaving.”

They gathered together around Gowan and led him out in a slightly clumsier version of the formation they’d come in with. Veronica’s head was spinning slightly, but she managed to walk well enough to hold her position.

Back at Westerburg, Gowan dismissed them without a word. He seemed angry about the interruption to his proposal, but strangely not at their failure, which he hardly acknowledged.

Perhaps there would be punishment later, but for now they were free to return to their usual schedule. For Veronica and the Heathers, that meant combat tactics with Fleming.

Veronica couldn’t pay attention, not only because of her head wound, which had settled into a dull ache, but also because of everything that had happened. The other students kept looking back at them with interest. It would have been big news that they had been chosen for a special mission for Gowan, and everyone wanted to know what had happened.

As always when she had a spare moment, Veronica’s mind found its way to JD. She was still mad at him— more so now because of her head— but he’d seemed so desperate.

Though it frustrated her, Veronica still had the insane urge to trust him. She was good at spotting lies, and his words had almost always had a ring of truth to them. There were definitely times when he didn’t give her all the details, but she had trouble believing that he’d outright lied to her.

And yet Heather Chandler was still missing, and her walls still sported large black scorch marks.

“Your friend is alive,” JD had said. Why? Why tell her? Why keep her alive? Heather Chandler was dangerous; she might have information the rebellion wanted, but she was powerful. Keeping her alive was a liability, and the rebellion hadn’t made any ransom calls that Veronica knew about.

If JD was telling the truth, it made no sense. If he was lying, why bother?

Veronica’s thoughts were interrupted when Heather Duke slipped a not onto her desk. It had to have been Duke because the note landed without anyone having touched it. Telekinesis had some uses outside of battle apparently.

_Was that your fire starter?_

Glaring down at the note, Veronica used her powers to create words on Duke’s paper. It was delicate work that made her head hurt worse, but it was better than risking Fleming’s wrath.

_He’s not mine, but he is the same one from the ceremony._

Another note fluttered onto her desk. _Why was he there?_

Veronica took a moment to glare at Heather. _How should I know?_

Duke glared right back before writing another note. _You two know each other. I don’t know how, but I’m not dumb. You let him go on purpose, and he didn’t kill you when he had the chance earlier. Why? Are you friends? Did you know him before Westerburg?_

That would make a convenient excuse. Maybe if Veronica just lied about it, Heather wouldn’t look further. Before she had a chance to come up with a plausible story, Heather sent another note.

_Were you fucking a rebel before you came to Westerburg?_

She didn’t ask the next obvious question: are you one of them? It hung in the air between them anyway.

“Duke!”

Both girls’ heads shot up in alarm as Sentinel Fleming glared at them from the front of the classroom. “Do you know the answer?”

Heather glanced briefly at Veronica, but neither of them had been paying attention to the lesson. Blushing wildly, she said, “I’m sorry, Sentinel Fleming, I didn’t hear the question.”

Fleming’s lips flattened into a disapproving line. “When one is fighting someone with telepathic abilities, what is the best course of action?”

There was a slight pause as Duke considered this. “Well, it depends on what type of telepath they are. If they can read minds, try to make your thoughts as confusing as possible, or bring a crowd of people so that they can’t focus on one person as easily. If they have mind control, it’s best to keep your distance or send in someone with counteractive abilities.” She exhaled, seeming pleased.

Veronica was impressed; it was a good answer, and even Fleming grudgingly accepted it with a nod. “Next time make sure you’re paying attention to my questions.”

That was the end of passing notes for the day, except for Veronica’s quick, visible only to Heather _No._

In their room that night, McNamara tossed herself onto the bed. “Ugh, I’m exhausted. I hate ComTac.”

“There are some problems you can’t just punch, Heather,” Duke said, rather more harshly than necessary. “Sometimes you need to think through them.”

Chastised, McNamara nodded. “I wish I could punch that fire starter. My hair reeks of smoke.”

Veronica laughed a little, but Duke frowned. “That’s strange.”

“We were surrounded by fire earlier,” Veronica pointed out, “It makes perfect sense for us to smell like smoke.”

Duke shook her head. “Marble doesn’t burn. That’s why City Hall is built with so much of it. The fire shouldn’t have been able to keep going like that unless…”

“Unless?” McNamara said, not following.

Suddenly excited, Duke pulled a book off of one of her shelves. “Well, there are different types of fire starters. Some of them need fuel, like… Here!” She held out the book, revealing a diagram Veronica couldn’t make sense of. “Some pull heat from the air around them to put into the fires, but they can’t do too much or it’ll burn them. Others can start a small fire—that’s where we get the name—but it needs to be something that will burn on its own to keep going. That’s what I thought our fire starter was, based on what happened at the ceremony. He only set things on fire that actually burn: the flag, the wooden dais. But today—“

“Today he burned marble,” Veronica said quietly as things started to make sense.

“He’s the most dangerous kind of fire starter there is. He makes the fire with his mind; like Veronica’s illusions, or the way I move things. There’s no limit to it.” Duke paused, and Veronica saw the rush of discovery fall from her face as horror began to set in.

McNamara frowned, “That’s not normal, usually people can’t be that powerful. Everyone’s exceptions have limits.”

“Maybe he gets tired?” Veronica suggested, though she had no evidence for this. He’d even said that his secondary was endurance, so it would take a long time before he got tired.

Duke chewed on her lip. “Sometimes… No that’s crazy.”

“What?” Veronica demanded, too interested to hide it.

“Well… I’m not sure, but there might be another fire starter in the rebellion. But I’m not sure!” Duke paused, her eyes anxious. “Could you guys… I mean, let’s not mention it to Gowan, I don’t want to bother him unless I’m sure.”

Veronica nodded solemnly. Though she looked troubled, McNamara did the same and left to shower.

Duke watched her go and waited until the door was closed to turn to Veronica. “I hope you remember where your loyalties should be, Veronica. He might have been your friend or your lover or whatever, but we’re your team. You should trust us.”

There was no way to respond to that that wouldn’t have complicated everything for Veronica, so she said nothing and Heather turned away.

 _Trust us._ JD had asked for her trust too. The safest policy seemed to be to not trust anyone, but that was an exhausting way to live. She wished she had someone she could trust absolutely. She wanted to be able to repeat what JD had told her aloud.

Carefully, in the darkness, once she was sure the Heathers were asleep, Veronica whispered, “Heather Chandler is alive.”

But for how long?

* * *

 

JD took a long route across the rooftops to get back to the warehouse that provided cover for the primarily underground hideout.

He made his way to his father’s office before doing anything else. Gowan’s plans were too important to put this off, even to talk to Deka. While he was waiting outside, he wondered what kind of shit he would be in for being noticed at city hall. Perhaps there was a way to spin it so that he didn’t have to mention that he’d lost control and revealed himself, but that could only work if Dyer wasn’t there.

“Jason,” His father said, opening the door. “You’re back sooner than I expected.”

That was a warm greeting as far as his father was concerned. JD stepped through the door and stood at attention in front of the desk. “Things didn’t go exactly according to plan, but I head Gowan’s proposal. Sir, he’s planning on changing the policy on exceptions so that they have to begin training at ten years old.”

Bud nodded. “Interesting. Why didn’t things go according to plan?”

Dyer wasn’t there, so JD was free to lie, but he kept it close to the truth. “Someone noticed me, I had to burn my way out.”

Shockingly, the general didn’t even ask how he’d been recognized; he seemed to be paying only half his attention to JD.

“Sir, are we going to do anything about Gowan’s plans?” Normally this sort of policy was something they’d publicly oppose. There would be protests, acts of vandalism, greater recruitment attempts.

They would bring fire down on the people who tried to kidnap exception children.

But the general only nodded vaguely. “At some point, yes. Not right now. I have other plans at the moment. Thank you, Jason, you’re dismissed.”

JD went right to the healing halls, though he took a route that passed through the training rooms, where he was glad to find Gideon practicing with a couple other new recruits. Making eye contact, JD gave a slight nod, and Gideon returned it. He left the training rooms and wasn’t surprised when Gideon met him at the infirmary.

Deka was checking on a patient, but she nodded at them so they went to the operation room to wait for her.

“So what happened?” Gideon asked eagerly.

JD rolled his eyes. “Wait for Deka.”

“I heard you got sent on a mission; is it true?”

“Yes.”

“Was it dangerous? Did you have to kidnap someone else? Where was it? Were you at Westerburg?”

“Would you just shut up?” JD snapped. He had too much on his mind to answer Gideon’s questions. He replayed his conversation with his father, making sure he remembered every detail.

Gideon glared at him. “Why even ask me to come if you don’t want me here?”

“I thought you wanted to be a part of whatever this is.” He realized he’d been rude, but there was more than Gideon’s feelings at stake here.

Crossing his arms, Gideon stood up to face JD. “I do, but not if I’m not wanted.”

“We need all the help we can get and you damn well know it. This isn’t a fucking game!” JD’s hands curled into fists, ready for a fight.

Deka walked in before Gideon had a chance to hit JD. “Boys, behave. We have more important things to talk about.”

Chastised, both boys stepped back. JD exhaled; unlike the first time he’d faced Gideon, he didn’t really want to hit him. Despite his attitude, JD actually kind of liked the guy. He was an optimist—something that was paramount to idiocy in JD’s mind—but he was enthusiastic and well meaning. People like that were few and far between in the rebellion.

After ensuring that both of them were calm, Deka nodded at JD for him to tell his story. “Your mission, what happened?”

“He sent me to city hall to listen to a law chief sentinel Gowan was proposing.” JD took a deep breath. “Gowan wants to start collecting exceptions when they’re ten. Ten fucking years old!” The anger JD had felt when he’d first heard it boiled under the surface, and with it came the urge to burn. He fought it down before he hurt someone.

Gideon gagged, just as horrified by the proposal as JD was. “They can’t… They just—“

“They can,” Deka said, her accent slightly heavier, revealing her emotion.

“There’s more,” JD said. “I got mad. I lost control and I had to burn my way out, and of course Veronica was there,”

“Did you hurt her?” Deka asked.  

“No, at least I don’t think so. I had to kind of briefly take her hostage to get out of there, but I don’t think she got hurt.”

“Are you hurt?” Gideon asked, and JD was surprised Deka hadn’t beaten him to it.

JD shook his head. “No, she sure as hell tried though.”

For whatever reason, Deka smiled. “I like the sound of this girl JD.”

It was tempting to get distracted talking about Veronica, but the issue at hand was too important. “None of that is even the worst part. When I got back, I reported to the general and he didn’t…. He didn’t care.”

Deka and Gideon both frowned. “What do you mean, he didn’t care?” Gideon said, “That fucks up all the recruitment tactics, not to mention it’s cruel. It’s against everything we stand for!”

“It’s more than that,” JD said, dragging his hand through his hair. “He didn’t seem surprised or bothered. He wasn’t even mad that I fucked up the plan. Deka, he was… _nice.”_

“To you?” She asked, shocked. Deka knew more about his relationship with his father than anyone.

JD sighed. “Yes. I’m worried. I think he’s up to something, and we need to find out what.”

“How?” Gideon asked, standing as though ready to take action right that second.

There was only one person here who might have answers. “We need to talk to Heather Chandler. Tonight.”

For once, Deka didn’t try to get him to exercise caution. She nodded.

“I’m already supposed to be on guard duty. I’ll help you get in.” Gideon looked a little ill, for all of his previous confidence, but his gaze was steady. JD believed that he wouldn’t get scared and back out at the last second.

 

He was right. Hours later, Gideon was waiting by the door to the east staircase to let JD and Deka in. They didn’t speak, and though sweat was beaded on Gideon’s forehead, he didn’t hesitate when they got to the door.

They had done their best to tamper with the cameras in this hall, but there was still plenty of risk.

Everyone involved knew that the punishment for this transgression would be death.

Deka followed JD down the stairs like a second shadow. If JD hadn’t known she was there, he wouldn’t have had any idea he was being followed.

The stairs opened up into a massive storage space, with large shipping containers arranged in rows. JD had never bothered to look in any of them. The time he had spent down here had been for practicing his abilities, trying to master the fire.

Perhaps it was nerves, or possibly habit, but as he crossed the concrete floor, JD’s hands itched with the desire to burn. It was dark enough that he didn’t have to resist; he filled his palm with fire and let it light his way.

Deka tapped his shoulder and pointed to a container as they passed. Markings on the door revealed that it had been recently opened. JD nodded at her and went over to it.

The screech of metal grinding on metal was terrifying in the silence they had been trying so hard to maintain, but it was over quickly, and JD stepped inside the container and turned on the light he found inside the door.

He touched Deka’s shoulder as he walked in. _Wait here._

Inside the container wasn’t even furnished enough to be called a cell. It was entirely metal with a single chair to which Heather Chandler was tied.

She raised her head to glare at him through thick curtains of hair. Though she couldn’t speak around the gag in her mouth, her eyes spoke volumes of her hatred.

For a moment, her fury distracted him from the rest of her, but he quickly realized that parts of her clothing had been burned away, leaving angry red skin and a few blisters. JD had had worse, but he knew how badly they hurt.

Sticking his head out the door, he gestured for Deka to join him. “Can you help her?”

Deka nodded and approached Chandler. “This is going to hurt; I’m sorry.

Though there wouldn’t have been much she could do, Heather didn’t fight as Deka put her hands on the worst of the burns. The gag muffled Heather’s groans of pain.

Stepping back, Deka surveyed her work. “I had to leave some of them so that he didn’t notice she was healed and suspect something, but they’re much better than they were.”

JD nodded. “Thank you.” He carefully approached her and removed the gag. “Heather, listen—”

“Fuck you,” She hissed, baring her teeth and leaning forward in her chair. The room suddenly felt thick with her power. “Let me out of here! How dare you?”

“Please stop,” JD said, more annoyed by her abilities than anything else. “That won’t work on me.”

Chandler’s eyes narrowed. “Lots of people have said that to me. Lots of people have been wrong.”

JD laughed a little. “I’m going to tell you a secret, Heather. My mother had abilities like yours; she could manipulate emotions, make them stronger. She taught me how to resist it.”

“That’s inconvenient.”

She didn’t say anything else. “I need to talk to you.”

“I told the other one, I’m not saying anything. Do whatever you want, but I’m not a traitor. You think just because you’re playing the nice guy role means I’m going to give up?”

Frustrated, JD raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not here for that. I don’t need to know the information he’s asking for, I just need to know what he’s asking.”

“That makes no sense,” Chandler said.

“What did he ask you?”

Still suspicious, Chandler eyed him. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want to know why he took you. Why did he risk everything breaking into Westerburg to kidnap you?” JD looked at Heather as if she might have the answers he needed.

“I don’t know,” Chandler answered.

“Don’t lie to me. I’m the closest thing to an ally you’ve got.” JD started to pace, barely noticing when his hand lit on fire, a manifestation of his frustration.

Chandler almost knocked the chair over trying to back away. “You’re like him!”

“What? Oh, shit!” JD closed his fist and cut off the flame. “I’m not, I didn’t mean to do that, I just—“

“You’re a fire starter.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re like him.” She swallowed hard. “Stay back.”

JD put his hands up in a meaningless symbol of surrender. “Heather, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re the fire starter from the ceremony, the one Veronica let go.”

JD wasn’t exactly sure how Chandler had turned this around so she was interrogating him, but it had happened. “Yes.”

“Why did she do it?”

Smiling, JD finally found some leverage. “If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

Chandler thought it over for a long second. “Fine.”

“What has the general asked you?”

She shrugged. “He asked about security some, and he wanted to know about chief sentinel Gowan.”

“What did he want to—“

“Nope, my turn. Why did Veronica let you go?” Chandler apparently liked to play by the rules.

“I don’t know. I think she was angry that the state was taking the rest of her life away, so she wanted to get back at them, just once. But I’m not sure, it’s not like I got a chance to talk to her about it.” That was a lie, but Chandler wouldn’t know that.

She mulled that over, and seemed satisfied. “Next question?”

“What did he ask about Gowan?”

Deka rapped on the door twice. That was the signal. “Shit, I have to go. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” He turned to leave.

“Wait! Next time…” Chandler hesitated, but steeled her expression. “Next time can you bring me information from outside? Are they looking for me? I’ll tell you more.”

It was the first hint at actual humanity JD had seen in Heather Chandler, that vulnerability, that fear. He nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” Placing the gag back over Chandler’s mouth, JD left the cell.

JD and Deka slipped silently between the containers and made it back to the stairs only minutes before the guard change. As he passed by, JD gripped Gideon’s hand quickly in gratitude.

His heart was still racing when he lay down in his bed, questions crowding his mind. Each one refused to be answered.


	9. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes out to tumblr user Boredomisreallyfun because she made absolutely beautiful fanart of Veronica from this story and it really warmed my heart and inspired me to get this done. Enjoy

Days passed, and things were outwardly normal for Veronica. No one would have known that her mind was constantly boiling with questions that didn’t have answers.

She had to talk to JD.

The thought had been dancing around the edges of her brain for a while, but when she woke up that morning, it had crystallized. Even though she was still kind of mad at him, and she hadn’t stopped suspecting that he was a part of whatever had happened to Heather Chandler, he knew things she needed to know.

He also hadn’t made any secret of the fact that he wanted her help. Maybe they would work out some sort of exchange. No one else was willing to barter on Chandler’s behalf.

As the days had gone by, Veronica had noticed Heather being spoken of less and less. Slowly, she was becoming a memory. Sometimes Veronica had to fight the urge to scream that she was alive. Assuming JD was telling the truth, Heather Chandler was alive and a prisoner, and she had been falsely accused of being a traitor.

She would be killed on sight if she returned to Westerburg or a sentinel spotted her.

That didn’t sit well with Veronica. Heather Chandler had been the most staunchly, obviously loyal person she’d ever seen; it just didn’t seem possible for her to be a traitor.

“Heather,” She said to McNamara when they had a moment alone in their room before class, “You knew Heather Chandler, do you think… I mean, do you believe what Gowan said?”

“Yes,” Heather answered without hesitation.

Duke returned and eyed both of them. She had taken to leadership well, and she stood taller than she had before, and spoke with more confidence. It was a nice change, even if it bothered Veronica that she’d stepped so easily into Chandler’s shoes.

“Veronica, you shouldn’t worry about Heather. The sentinels will take care of her,” She said.

“Yes, but what if she’s not guilty?” Even knowing she was alive with the rebellion, Veronica didn’t think that Heather was one of them. She’d been a sentinel through and through. “She just always seemed so… She was born to be a sentinel.”

Shaking her head, Duke sighed. “Sometimes people aren’t what you think they are, Veronica. You can think you know someone, and then one day find out they lived a whole other life. It happens.” She left the room without another word.

McNamara shrugged, “She seemed loyal, but she’s gone, and it’s impossible to break into Westerburg without help, so it was probably fake. And anyway, if Gowan says it’s true, it’s true; he knows more about things than we do, and he always has a plan.”

“His plan is to recruit kids and turn them into warriors. He’ll make them fight,” Veronica said unwisely, but her frustration was getting the better of her.

For a second, Heather’s face flickered with an emotion Veronica couldn’t name. “He knows what he’s doing.”

Turning away, she gathered the rest of her things and headed off in the direction of the training rooms. Veronica went with her.

In the locker rooms, both Heathers were pretending their conversation hadn’t happened.

Duke looked irritable. “I don’t see why I still have to go to weapons training.”

“You’re right, they should split us up by powers,” McNamara said.

“I’m kind of looking forward to it,” Veronica said, “It’s swords and staffs today, my secondary will help with that.

A small, envious sigh came from behind Veronica, and she turned to find Martha Dunnstock watching them. Duke narrowed her eyes, “What do you want, dreamfreak?”

Terrified, the girl muttered, “Nothing!” And scurried off.

McNamara laughed, “What a freak, why was she listening to us?”

“She probably wishes she was one of us,” Duke said, smiling cruelly.

Veronica frowned, but she couldn’t come up with something witty to say that would stop them. “Let’s just go.”

Duke rolled her eyes and muttered something about her being no fun, but Veronica pretended she hadn’t heard.

Training went well, Veronica felt natural with a staff in her hand, as if her body already knew what it was supposed to be doing, and she only had to make sure her brain was keeping up. She had taken down her third opponent when Duke’s tablet pinged.

“Guys, Gowan wants us, it looks like we’re going out.”

Veronica twisted the staff so it would shorten to its more portable length and hooked it to her belt. Leaning over Heather’s shoulder, she tried to get a better look at their orders. “Out?”

Duke tucked the tablet away, ignoring Veronica’s efforts. “Gowan is going out to the East city and he wants us with him.”

“Doesn’t he have real sentinels for that,” McNamara asked, though she started to pack up her things without question.

Veronica caught on before either Heather did. “It’s a campaign.”

They stared at her, brows furrowed, Veronica sighed and explained. “He’s campaigning to get popular support for the bill he introduced. He wants to show you guys off, since you both started training young.”

Both Heathers looked vaguely disgusted, but neither said anything bad about Gowan or his bill.

McNamara ducked her head and shrugged slightly. “At least we get to go out?”

It was cold comfort, but they prepared to go anyway.

***

JD went to see Chandler one more time after the first time. She barely spoke to him as soon as he mentioned that he hadn’t managed to get any information from her. In an attempt to gain her trust, he’d left when she’d asked him to, just as soon as Deka had had time to heal her enough to get her through another day.

With nothing to do that day as he waited for an opportunity to try and find out his father’s plan without giving himself away, JD went to the training room. It was too crowded, but people wisely left him alone.

He took his usual place at a punching bag, putting as much frustration as he could while he tried to work through some of the many questions that occupied his mind. Sweat began to gather on his forehead and neck, but no answers presented themselves.

Someone caught his elbow mid-punch, pulling him off balance. JD twisted around, ready to fight, only to find Gideon fighting laughter.

“I called your name liked four times, what the hell, man?”

JD rolled his eyes and let out his breath, flexing his hands as he fought to calm down. “What do you want?” The words came out harsher than he’d meant them, but he didn’t like having someone sneak up on him.

Gideon’s smile faltered. “Oh, um, well the general is sending me to the East city on a mission, I was just going to ask if you needed anything while I’m out.”

Guilt flared up in JD, and he regretted his rudeness. “No, thanks though.” He offered the closest thing to a smile that he ever gave anyone.

Unimpressed, Gideon nodded. “Enjoy your workout, I guess.” He wandered off.

JD watched him go; wishing he’d handled that differently. _Sorry, I’m not used to having friends._ Realizing that would be an equally stupid thing to say, he didn’t try to catch up with Gideon.

It was better if Gideon thought he was an asshole, and didn’t attempt any kind of friendship with him. Whatever they were doing in secret was dangerous enough, but for Gideon to be seen being friendly with him during the day was almost as bad.

People who got close to JD often ended up on impossible missions that ended with them dead. Deka avoided this fate by never going on missions, and by being far too useful for the general to play with her life.

The same could not be said for Kya, the only girl JD had ever gotten close to, and the last time he’d attempted friendship with a recruit. She’d been killed by sentinels on a mission, and JD still suspected that there had never been a plan to get her out.

His father had burned him badly when he’d suggested that was the case. Deka had never asked what happened; she’d never had to.

JD and Deka knew what Bud was like.

But Gideon didn’t.

That thought hit JD like being kicked in the stomach. Gideon had seen JD get punished for speaking to Veronica, but there was no way he could no how dangerous it was to be JD’s friend.

He dashed back to his room for a quick shower before he ducked through the halls of the rebellion hideout and made his way out. Gideon needed a warning, and if he was on a mission, there was a chance JD could talk to him without being overheard.

It was somewhat idiotic, but Gideon deserved a warning, and another day hanging around the hideout would drive him crazy. Sneaking out wasn’t much of an issue; the general had been busy lately and almost certainly wouldn’t notice he was gone. He made his way to the garage and grabbed his bike.

JD was halfway to the East city before he thought about telling Deka what he was doing, and at that point it was too late.

Heat shimmered in the air as he rode, and he was grateful that he hadn’t brought his coat with him.

Ordinaries milled around, wandering in and out of shops, chatting, ignorant of all the people suffering so they could live their average lives. Bitterness washed through JD as he thought about how easily they all managed to forget that they’re safety was paid for with the blood of exceptions.

 _But what are they being kept safe from?_ A tiny voice that sounded a little like Veronica’s asked in the back of his mind. _Would they need to be kept safe if there was no rebellion?_

Technically, the sentinels existed to fight other states in case of war, but even though there had been peace for decades, they’d never been freed, or even allowed more freedom. That’s why the rebellion had formed, and with it had come even more laws against exceptions. It was all a goddamn cycle and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Even knowing that he was sort of fighting against the rebellion made his stomach twist; did that make him an ally to the state? The rebellion was weak enough without politics and infighting, but a madman was leading it. Someone had to do something.

JD wished he didn’t have to be the someone.

His mission came back to him as he rounded a corner and found himself in a small square. There was a large fountain in the center, but despite the heat, no one was gathered around it.

They were all crowded around some kind of commotion that was happening. JD moved the bike as close as he could without leaving the road.

There were sentinels and trainees gathered around, trying to control the crowd, which was almost a riot at this point. JD couldn’t see what was happening, but he heard the violence in their voices.

And he heard what they said. “Rebel scum!”

“Traitor!”

“Kill the traitor!”

Ice filled his stomach.

The crowd parted, and JD caught sight of the a large guy, holding someone’s face to the ground. The someone managed to lift his head just a little, and locked eyes with JD.

Gideon. Of course it was Gideon. JD didn’t know how it had happened, but somehow, someone had known that Gideon was a rebel, and they had gone after him.

He was pinned, and clearly unable to escape on his own. He was a good fighter—JD knew that firsthand—but the trainee that held him was obviously strong. It was probably his exception.

Gideon didn’t stand a chance.

The rules of the rebellion were clear: save yourself if someone is caught. Don’t let them catch all of us.

JD turned the bike around and rode until he was behind a building where he could store it.

Then he went back to the square. The riotous crowd had calmed somewhat, and JD was able to get closer. He caught sight of brown hair out of the corner of his eye, and wondered if it was her.

With the people now quiet, JD could hear what the trainee was shouting at Gideon. “Say it, scum! Say it!”

Gideon, with his face pressed into the hard stone ground, said nothing.

“Denounce the rebellion and the state will have mercy!”

JD gagged and fought the urge to vomit. They would do this until he said whatever it was they wanted him to say, and then they would kill him. It didn’t matter that Gideon couldn’t feel pain, the shame was enough.

The guy tightened his grip a little, and JD heard Gideon’s breath catch. “One last chance, rebel. Tell everyone here that the rebellion is full of useless, pathetic traitors, or I’ll crush you.”

The crowd backed away and started to disperse. Yelling and mocking a captured rebel was one thing, but the glint in this guy’s eyes told them that he meant his words.

Gideon lifted his head just a little. “Go fuck yourself, state slave.”

For a second, his words hung suspended in the humid air, and then JD heard the sound of ribs breaking, or perhaps he just imagined it when he saw the trainee’s arms tighten around Gideon’s chest.

Gideon’s face went eerily white and, and his gasps for breath were perfectly audible, even over the exaggerated pounding of JD’s heart. Rage surged up in him and his vision went white.

He didn’t realize he was calling the fire until it was too late, and the trainee was already on the ground; smoke drifting slightly from his mouth.

JD tried not to think too hard about it as he dashed forward and grabbed Gideon, whose labored breaths were still coming.

“Hang in there, Gideon, we’ll get you to Dek and you’ll be okay,” He whispered, helping his friend to his feet so they could run.

The trainees and sentinels moved forward, and JD created a wall of fire, hiding them from view while he figured out an escape. There was an alley off to the side, but JD wasn’t sure they could reach it, plus it was the most obvious escape.

To the other side, JD noticed a gold arrow that appeared to be painted on the ground, pointing towards a small maintenance door in the side of a building.

It hit him all at once. The arrow was an illusion. Veronica…

Could he trust her? Would she really save him again, when she thought he’d been responsible for what had happened to Chandler?

But the door was closer than the alley, and Gideon didn’t have much time. Hopefully JD could double back for the bike. Using the fire as a guard, JD dragged Gideon to the door and pushed it open. He dashed down the set of stairs and nearly collided with one of three doors at the bottom.

Choosing the one to the left that might take him back in the direction of his bike, JD kept moving as fast as he could while supporting nearly all of Gideon’s not insignificant weight.

When he’d gone far enough, he picked a ladder at random and hauled himself and Gideon up it.

Some combination of luck or unconscious memory had led him to the exact side street he’d been looking for, and he started to make his way towards the bike that was parked at the end of it.

But it wasn’t empty.

Veronica stood next to the bike, leaning against it slightly and obviously waiting for him.

“You killed Maxwell.” She said it simply, letting the words fall where they would.

“He tried to kill Gideon. It’s a war.”

She looked away from him. “I suppose it is.”

“How did you know I would be here?” He asked her, leaning Gideon against a wall so he could catch his breath.

“I saw you drive by and then come back, so I went the way you came from. I recognized the bike.”

Of course she did. She’d ridden it with him when they’d escaped to the rooftop. That night felt like years ago.

They faced each other silently for a long moment before JD said, “He’s dying, so are you going to let me go or not?”

Veronica frowned and glanced at Gideon. “I need to talk to you,”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Gideon wheezed, though it obviously caused him a lot of pain.

The slightest hint of a smile crossed Veronica’s lips. “Just go. I can’t believe I’m making a habit of this, but just go, JD.”

Impulsively, JD reached forward and grabbed her hand. “Thank you.”

She squeezed his hand just a little, an oddly friendly gesture, given the circumstances. “Can… Could you meet me tonight, on the rooftop from before? You said we could help each other, and I need it.”

JD nodded before he considered her words. “Yes, I’ll be there.” _Unless I’m dead._

He’d broken a major rule, and the general would be pissed. Hopefully not pissed enough to kill him, but there was no way of knowing for sure.

She pulled her hand out of his. “Go. Someone might come check on me.”

“What will you tell them? They’re probably suspicious by now, this is the third time—“

A cryptic smile danced around Veronica’s lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll convince them of something.”

Accepting that he turned to go, grabbing Gideon and lifting him up onto the bike. “Hang on, man, it’s just a little longer.” He revved the engine once, before looking at Veronica one last time. “Thank you.”

“You owe me, JD,” was all she said, before she walked away, disappearing around the corner.

The ride back to the hideout was a blur. JD broke just about every traffic law he could get away with, and he was still worried that Gideon wouldn’t make it. He’d stalled too long with Veronica, and he hated that it might cost Gideon his life.

A guard stopped them at the garage when he parked the bike. “You’re needed in the general’s office.”

JD gritted his teeth. “Fine, take him to the infirmary, he needs help.”

“Him too,” The guard answered, expressionless.

So JD hauled his friend’s body up to his father’s office, ready to face death if he could just keep Gideon alive a little longer.

Leaning down, he whispered so the guard couldn’t hear him. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll get Deka and she’ll fix you. It’ll be a bitch, but you’ll live.”

Gideon wheezed a little and whispered back, “Don’t worry, I’m not in any pain.” He laughed, choking on it and then trying to manage a full cough, but he couldn’t take in enough breath.

“Stop talking,” The guard snapped.

JD patted Gideon’s back and kept moving.

Bud stood at his desk, waiting for them. “What happened?”

“Gideon got caught by a sentinel. I was in the East city running an errand and I saw it happen. I got him out.”

Dyer stood behind Bud, watching JD’s face carefully. “No lies, Sir.”

JD knew he hadn’t lied. He hadn’t told the full truth, but Dyer’s abilities didn’t extend that far.

“Interesting.” Bud dragged the word out too long.

“Sir, he needs help, he’s hurt,” JD said, adjusting his grip to lift the barely conscious Gideon up a little more.

Bud looked on, unimpressed. After a long pause, he went to the tablet on his desk and hit a button. “Send the healer up here, the dark one. I’d like to speak with her.”

JD’s jaw clenched and he felt heat prickle at the back of his neck. The general knew Deka’s name, and he damn well could have used it.

“While we’re waiting,” Bud said, “Jason, remind me what our policy on captured members of our organization is?”

This was how it would start. “The policy is not to rescue them if you yourself end up at risk because of it, Sir.”

“Interesting, and what did you do today?”

“I rescued him, Sir, at very little risk to myself.”

“A lie!” Dyer practically squealed it, and glee was written all over his disgusting, pointed face.

The general’s eyes narrowed. “Would you like to try that again?”

“I rescued him, Sir, even though it put me at risk. And I killed a sentinel.” JD stared back into his father’s eyes; even as he felt the room go cold, even knowing what was about to come. He had done everything wrong, and put the whole organization at risk when he’d killed that trainee. There would be no escaping punishment.

Expecting it didn’t make it better when the skin on his arm started to blister and burn. He tried to contain his screams as he saw more skin peel away and blacken.

He was on the ground, shaking and trying not to cry when Deka walked in.

She looked at him first; the glanced to Gideon’s unconscious body next to him, then her eyes met the general’s. “You asked for me?”

“I have a question for you, healer.”

JD could picture the slow smile on Bud’s face, though he didn’t lift his head to try to see it. He was dizzy and faint with pain.

The general continued. “You can only heal one of them. Which one are you going to pick?”

The only sign that gave away Deka’s distress was a muscle clenching in her jaw. She studied both boys, but didn’t step closer. JD tried to gesture to Gideon with his eyes, praying she would get his message.

“I would save the new recruit, sir.” There was just a hint of anger in her voice, like the prickling feeling of lightening before a storm. JD admired her restraint.

Bud gestured to Gideon. “Go on then.”

Gideon didn’t scream. His powers were fully at work, and despite all the broken ribs that were being knitted back together, he barely flinched, just slowly came back to consciousness.

“You’re dismissed,” The general said to him, as soon as he was on his feet.

Gideon nodded and left, glancing back at JD, if only for a second. JD hoped that Bud hadn’t noticed.

JD struggled into a slightly more dignified sitting position, though he regretted it as soon as he was up. His head spun and for a moment he thought he would pass out. The moment passed, or he fought through it, and he stayed upright.

“Tell me,” The general said to Deka, “Why did you pick the recruit?”

Deka looked the general straight in his eyes. “Because I know _your son_ can survive a burn.” Her words were somehow both a threat and an insult.

Bud was obviously livid, and for the second time the heat leaked out of the room. JD wanted to stand in front of Deka to protect her, but he could barely move.

Unflinching, Deka held her ground, and shockingly, Bud blinked first. He stepped away from them. “Get out.” When neither of them moved, he shouted, “GET OUT!” Loud enough that Dyer recoiled.

Deka took hold of JD’s good arm and led him out of the room.

Gideon was waiting for them in the hallway, his face chalky white. “I thought you wouldn’t—“

“Hush, boy, help me with him.”

Their voiced sounded rather far away to JD. All he could think about was the blistering heat coming from his arm.

Deka’s hands felt cool when they pressed into his skin, even if they hurt. The pain got worse, horribly worse, until black spots appeared in JD’s vision and he nearly blacked out for the hundredth time that day.

When it was finally over, both Deka and JD were breathing hard. He looked up at her, “You shouldn’t have done that, he said you could only—“

She frowned at him. “I assumed he was being hypothetical. You should thank me.”

“Thank you, Deka.” He smiled at her, and accepted the hand she offered to help him stand.

The three of them walked away from the office, and didn’t speak again until they got to the operating room.

Gideon and JD filled Deka in on everything that had happened, and JD finally got to give Gideon the warning he’d been intending to deliver, though it was a little bit too late.

After everything, Gideon smiled a little bit. “JD didn’t tell you the best part; he ran into his sentinel again.”

“She’s not my sentinel,” JD insisted, realizing after he said it how childish he sounded. “And at least the sentinel I know helped us!”

Gideon flushed, “I didn’t recognize him until it was too late. How was I supposed to know some guy from my school would be at Gowan’s rally today?”

JD dropped his mocking attitude and patted him on the shoulder, “There was no way you could have known; it wasn’t your fault.”

“Thanks for coming back for me,” Gideon said, his tone serious for once. “I didn’t think you would.”

Shrugging, JD said, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Gideon beamed.

Deka rolled her eyes. “So what happened with the sentinel girl?”

“She wants to talk tonight. I told her I would meet with her.”

“That sounds like a trap,” Deka said.

JD shrugged. “I’m going to take that risk; I need answers and she might have some of them.”

Neither of them tried to argue with him. Deka just nodded. “Be careful. This girl is trouble.”

Truer words had never been spoken.


	10. We

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to update. I graduated college on Sunday and life has been crazy. I'm home now and hopefully will have more time to write though. I really hope you like this chapter. Enjoy!

The ride back to Westerburg was… Awkward, to say the least. Veronica sat next to Heather Duke, who was trying very hard not to look at the sheet-covered body on the floor of the van.

Veronica was trying not to look too. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she couldn’t smell. The scent of cooked meat permeated the van, and all of its occupants looked a little nauseous. The smell made sense; after all, he’d essentially been cooked from the inside out.

JD had killed him. It was a disturbing thought, and one that made Veronica’s insides squirm with discomfort. The other thought that made her ill was that she wasn’t sad Maxwell was dead. She should be. Logically, someone she knew dying in front of her should be traumatizing and horrifying, but mostly, Veronica felt relief.

Maxwell had suspected her disloyalty from the beginning, and that made Veronica nervous. She was glad he wasn’t alive for her third time letting JD go when she could have stopped him. No one knew about the party, of course, and no one seemed too suspicious about what happened at city hall.

Still, anyone suspecting her of anything made Veronica very nervous. She didn’t want to end up like Chandler; wanted for a crime, with a kill order hanging over her head.

Veronica shuddered at the thought. It was worse for her, because unlike Chandler, Veronica had committed the crime she would be accused of; she really had associated with JD.

And she was planning on doing it again. Her heart skipped a beat when she remembered her plans for that night. The decision to make plans had been spur of the moment and based on something arbitrary.

He had scars on his arms.

This was the first time she’d seen him without his coat, and she’d noticed several unmistakable burn scars covering his arms.

JD had told her that his fire didn’t burn him. Hell, she’d seen him messing around with it, letting it curl around his arm like a pet, and he’d shown no sign of pain.

He couldn’t have burned himself, so it was possible, even probable, that someone else had burned him.

That, combined with Duke’s suggestion that possibly, there was someone else in the rebellion that could manipulate fire, and she’d decided to trust what he’d said about not being involved with what happened to Chandler. Maybe—hopefully—he knew something about it, even if he hadn’t been a part of it.

Veronica’s nerves about her plan hindered her for the rest of the day. During her debrief with Fleming, Veronica struggled to pay attention and flinched whenever Fleming asked a question too suddenly.

It was easy to blame her jumpiness on the death she had witnessed that day, and no one questioned her. Though Maxwell had died fast, it had been brutal. Everyone who’d been there was more than a little shaken.

After the debrief, Veronica returned to her room, where Heather and Heather were waiting.

“That was brutal,” Heather Duke said, “I thought the questions would never stop.”

McNamara nodded. “They really weren’t expecting a rebel attack so soon after the one at city hall, and with the same guy too.”

“We need to catch this fire starter,” Duke agreed, “He’s been behind everything since the ceremony.”

“But what about Heather?” McNamara’s voice was timid.

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “What about her?”

“Well, I just mean… If we find him, he might tell us about Heather… or we might find her too.”

The silence was heavy. None of them wanted to be the one who found Chandler.

Veronica was relieved to know that, though they seemed to believe Gowan’s assurances that Chandler was guilty, they were not willing to kill her.

 _Heather Chandler is alive._ JD had told her that, and Veronica believed him.

Her new willingness to trust JD was surprising, and a part of her was worried it was born of sheer desperation. She had no one to trust, no one to talk to, and she longed for another moment of speaking and breathing freely, like she had on that roof with him.

Duke interrupted Veronica’s thoughts. “It doesn’t matter anyway, someone else will track down the rebels and end this thing. Heather… That isn’t our problem.”

Veronica detected the faintest hint of hesitance, of fear, in her voice, but it only barely reflected on her face. Duke was committed to her role as fearless leader of Westerburg trainees; it made Veronica ill.

Duke’s tone didn’t leave room for the conversation to continue, so they fell into silence.

The rest of the afternoon passed as though time couldn’t decide whether it wanted to move slow or fast. Veronica and the Heathers remained in their room, avoiding the other students and the rumors about Maxwell’s death.

As the hours ticked by, Veronica fought with herself as she tried not to act nervous. It would have been nice to pace, just to relieve the enormous pressure in her chest, or to run from the inconvenient butterflies in her stomach, but that would have confused the Heathers. She needed them to think everything was normal, and to fall asleep at the normal time so she could sneak out.

Eventually, she gave up and went to the training room. A couple other trainees were there, and they all stopped practicing to stare at her.

Silence fell, and Veronica had the prickling sense that they’d all been talking about her, and they would go back to it as soon as she left the room. But she had energy to burn, so she ignored them and went to the corner, grabbing a staff on her way.

The rhythmic movement, and quick practiced swings helped center her, and she was able to tune out the noise from the other trainees. Time passed and she forgot she wasn’t alone.

A harsh reminder came in the form of a Kurt and Ram. They walked up to Veronica and stood directly in front of her, forcing Veronica to stop her practice or hit them, which was honestly rather tempting.

“What do you want?” Veronica glared, one fist on her hip.

Neither boy flinched. “I want to know why you killed Maxwell,” Kurt said.

Veronica’s stomach plummeted and it was all she could do to keep herself from staggering back a step. “What?”

A cruel smile twisted Kurt’s lips. “Some of the rumors about you have been pretty colorful, Sawyer. Everyone knows you don’t deserve your place on Gowan’s special team. Soon, Gowan will know it too.”

“I didn’t kill Maxwell,” Veronica said, glad she didn’t have to lie. “I don’t know who the fuck you’ve been talking to, but that’s absurd. He was burned to death.”

“Yeah, by the fire starter you let go. The same one you also failed to catch at city hall. Maxwell’s death is your fault, Sawyer.” Ram spoke this time, stepping closer to Veronica as if to remind her how much larger he was.

“You’re insane.” Veronica pushed past him.

They followed her, ignoring her attempts to get away. “Maxwell knew it! He knew from the start, and now he’s dead,” Kurt tried to grab her arm, but she managed to twist away at the last second.

Ram’s jaw clenched, “Listen, bitch, we know you’re some kind of rebel spy, and we’re going to prove it. You’re a traitor and you deserve to die for what you did to Max.”

Veronica snapped.

Twisting quickly, she swept Kurt’s feet out from under him, and then used her momentum to drive the butt of her staff into Ram’s gut, forcing him back. “No, you listen. I am loyal to the state and to the sentinels and I did not let that rebel go, you did. You should have followed him when he ran from city hall. Your mistake is not my responsibility. Don’t forget that.”

Collapsing the staff, she hooked it to her belt as casually as she could manage and walked away, leaving both of them gasping and trying to stand up.

She returned to the room she shared with the Heathers for a shower. They both nodded greetings, but Duke didn’t look up from her book, and McNamara didn’t bother to remove her headphones.

When she returned, no one was waiting to summon her to Gowan’s office, demanding an explanation for Kurt and Ram’s accusations. They had decided not to turn her in with whatever evidence they thought they had.

Most likely, they were just grieving and angry, two emotions Veronica could understand, despite how much she disliked Kurt and Ram.

Heather Duke stood up and turned the lights off, plunging them into darkness.

“Sleep well,” McNamara whispered.

“You too,” Veronica replied, praying that they both really would sleep well; she would need them too in order to sneak out.

Luckily, their day had been pretty exhausting, and Veronica hoped that would be enough to knock them out so she could have her nighttime adventure.

She waited two hours. Two hours that passed with an aching drag as she stared at the ceiling listening to her roommates breathing. When she was finally satisfied that they were truly unconscious, she threw her blankets off and pulled on a tank top and a loose pair of pants, clipping the staff she’d stolen earlier to her belt just in case.

Climbing out the window was easy and the night air on her face felt amazing. For one second, she tilted her chin up to bask in the light of the moon, before she tossed herself off the window ledge and made her way to the wall.

When she reached the gap JD had shown her, she tapped the breaker sharply with her fist and crawled through the hole she’d created.

Then she was free.

Veronica ran, letting the wind whip through her hair as she sprinted away from Westerburg, imagining that her problems were falling off her shoulders as she did so. Drawing on her secondary, Veronica leapt up and grabbed a fire escape ladder, swinging herself onto the landing. From there, she climbed to the roof of the building.

It was easy, after that, to run through the city without ever touching the ground. Sometimes she had to leap a little further than she normally would have dared, but tonight, whatever high she was on made her brave. The jumps allowed her to pretend for a second that she could fly.

It was power, pure and raw and hers.

Laughing, she tossed her head back and summoned an illusion of stars dancing next to her like a silvery wave. It was stupid and childish, but that was what made it perfect.

Westerburg had tried to make her forget that she liked her powers, that she could have fun with them. Now, no one could stop her.

She sobered somewhat when she reached JD’s rooftop. He wasn’t here, but she believed he would come. He had to.

Time passed and Veronica began to grow nervous as JD failed to show. What if he’d set her up? What if there were dozens of rebels waiting to take her the way they’d taken Heather Chandler?

Her paranoia grew and soon every noise sounded like an impending attack. Veronica pulled her staff out and flicked it into attack mode, getting her stance ready to fight someone off.

“Hey—“

She twisted around, swinging the staff at the source of the sound, nearly decapitating JD in the process.

“Holy shit, Veronica,” He stepped back just in time to dodge the blow, raising his hands in surrender. “Jesus.”

Breathing hard, Veronica collapsed the staff, but didn’t apologize. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people!”

He cracked a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Lowering his hands, he stepped towards her. “Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” Veronica snapped. Her good mood had evaporated completely. “Every second I spend with you is risking my life. If I get caught, I’ll be dead tomorrow.”

“Me too,” JD replied.

“Will the other fire starter in the rebellion kill you the way you killed Maxwell today?”

Her question seemed to catch him off guard and he looked up at her sharply, his eyes snapping away from the skyline. “Yes. He’s…. He’s sort of in charge and he doesn’t like it when people don’t follow his orders.” He rubbed his arms slightly, pulling at the sleeves of his coat.

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “How is that different from the state and the sentinels?”

He let out a long breath. “Sometimes I don’t know.”

His words hung in the air between them, and Veronica couldn’t tell if they were pushing the two of them apart or pulling them together.

“At least our people choose to fight,” JD said. “That kid I killed… he didn’t choose. I’m sorry for that.”

“He would have chosen to fight for the state,” Veronica assured him, for some reason trying to alleviate his guilt. “He loved the state, and he thought I wasn’t loyal. His teammates do too.”

“Well…” JD gestured around him, indicating everything she had done, and what she was doing now.

“I know, but that’s not the point,” Veronica huffed, though she couldn’t really hold back her wry smile.

JD ran his fingers through his hair, “Still, I’m glad I saved you some trouble from him.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Veronica said awkwardly, surprised at how strangely comfortable this was. She had expected anger from both of them, not this odd, grudging camaraderie, like two people discussing a job they both hated.

“Heather asked me to find out if Gowan and the Westerburg sentinels are trying to rescue her. You don’t have to tell me specific plans or anything, but she’d like to know that you’re trying.” It was an uncomfortable change in topic— far too sudden— but their conversation had gotten too close to being personal, and JD clearly didn’t want it to go there.

“You have to keep Heather with you,” Veronica said, putting some steel in her voice. She’d thought about this earlier that day, and it was the best option, at least for now.

JD gaped at her. “I have to what?”

“Keep her,” She repeated, “At the rebellion. Gowan thinks she betrayed the state and joined you. He told us to kill her on sight.”

“Holy shit.” JD drew the words out, mulling over everything she’d said. “She isn’t, you know. She won’t tell us anything.”

“I know. There’s no way Heather would betray the state; she’s everything a sentinel is supposed to be, and she’s only a trainee.”

JD turned and paced away from her, walking to the edge of the roof so he could look over the city.

Veronica followed him; standing next to him, almost close enough to touch, though she didn’t try. “JD… What are we going to do?”

The word ‘we’ had slipped out unintentionally, but it seemed to create a contract between them. _We’re in this together now,_ it seemed to say, _Whether or not we want to be._

“I don’t know,” He answered. “It seems… Fuck, Veronica, it seems impossible. Even if I keep Heather where she is, the general might kill her. But if she survives, what do we do? Gowan isn’t just going to forgive her, and she couldn’t pass as an ordinary, her power is out of control.”

“Not to mention the fact that it doesn’t change anything for either of us,” Veronica added. “I’m still stuck training to be a sentinel, and you’re still a rebel. Even if we fix this shit with Heather, we still might be forced to kill each other a year from now.”

He raked his fingers through his hair and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. It seemed to light itself, with no gesture from him to indicate that he’d done it. “We should just tear it down, Veronica. Give up this illusion that you’re still with them and come back to the rebellion with me. Help me fight them!”

Veronica took a breath to interrupt him, but he ignored her and barreled on. “You know better than anyone what they’re like, they package and sell the illusion of order, built on the backs of exceptions who aren’t allowed to abstain from the fight.”

When he stopped for breath, Veronica cut in quickly. “So what, I should just join your rebellion? The one with the crazy general who controls fire and burns people who are loyal to his cause? Face it JD, you aren’t that much better than them.” Before he could protest, she went on. “And I don’t want to fight anyway. I don’t want to be a part of this. It’s not my fight.”

“It’s everyone’s fight!” He insisted. “Look around you, Veronica. Look at what you’re doing! You left neutrality behind a long time ago.”

She wanted to fight him, wanted to fall into her training and hit and kick him until he took back his words. But truthfully, she knew that what she really wanted was for him to be wrong. “So what do we do?” She asked again, her voice heavy.

“I—I don’t know.” He reached out and rested his hand over hers. She realized how easy it would be to pull away, but she didn’t. It felt nice, even though his hands were freezing, despite the warm night.

For a long time, they didn’t say anything. The silence and his hand on hers were comforting, and she didn’t want to ruin that.

Finally, she couldn’t keep her thoughts to herself anymore. “What if… what if we tore it all down?” She paused, watching his face for a reaction, but saw none. “The state, the rebellion, all of it, then we rebuild it into something… I don’t know, something decent.”

More silence. “Shit, Veronica.”

She started to say something, maybe an apology, or maybe an attempt to convince him she wasn’t crazy, but he stopped her. “Do you really think _we_ can do that?”

“I don’t know. I… I want to think so.”

He nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I know you don’t think this, but the rebellion is the safest place for this. I already have a couple of people who might want to help… friends of mine who would listen to something as insane as this.”

Veronica doubted her friends would want to be involved in this. “I don’t have anyone, they’re too loyal. And I don’t want to leave Westerburg yet. I’ll only be able to do that once, and then I won’t be able to get back in.”

“Then we’ll need a way to communicate. I like meeting here, but if we keep doing it, we’ll get caught.”

She knew he was right, but she agreed with him; meeting in person was reckless. The state monitored her constantly, and it felt like they could follow her every move.

But they couldn’t monitor everything.

They couldn’t monitor dreams.

“Martha!”

“What?” JD looked at her, his brows furrowed as he exhaled smoke.

“Martha Dunnstock can walk in other people’s dreams and change them. If I can get her to work with us, she could send messages that they’d never be able to trace.”

“That’s brilliant,” JD said, smiling for the first time since she’d started talking about this. “Just be careful when you talk to her.”

“I know. I think she’ll join us though. I think she’d do anything for a friend.” It was a sad thought, but a true one. Veronica hoped she would be able to create a genuine friendship with the girl, because she didn’t want to lie to Martha and use her if she could avoid it.

In the distance, the clock in city hall struck, automated bells echoing across the city, reminding them how early it was.

They stood and listened; remaining silent long after the bells had stopped. Finally, JD said, “We should go.”

She nodded, but didn’t make any move to leave the roof. “We can do this, JD. We’ll start tomorrow.” _And pray we don’t get caught,_ she thought.

His thoughts seemed to follow the same line, but he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he reached up, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss.

* * *

 

Generally, JD wasn’t very good at impulse decisions, but this was one he couldn’t make himself regret.

For a second, Veronica was frozen, shocked, and he briefly wondered if he was about to be tossed across the roof. But she didn’t push him away; instead she stepped closer, pressing her body into his.

He pulled away after a long second, his face flushed and his whole body feeling warmer than it had in years. She stayed close to him, holding fistfuls of his coat.

“Just in case we die tomorrow,” He whispered, brushing her hair out of her face.

Veronica nodded and let go of his coat so she could step away from him. At the last second, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it quickly. “Good luck, JD.”

God, he already wanted to kiss her again, but he forced himself to maintain his distance. “You too.”

She released his hand, and he instantly missed her warmth. Turning away, Veronica took a couple steps back, got a running start, and launched herself into the air, leaping to the roof next to theirs.

He watched her go until she had vanished into the night, then he climbed down to where he’d stashed his bike.

The first place he went when he got back to the hideout was Heather Chandler’s cell. Whatever guard was supposed to be on duty had abandoned his post, making JD’s job even easier.

Chandler might have been waiting for him, she certainly didn’t seem like she’d been asleep.

“Oh great, freaky fire boy is back,” She drawled, as if she didn’t care about anything. It was a brave attitude for someone tied to a chair.

“Hi, Heather. I just got back from talking to Veronica—“

She gasped. “I knew it! I knew that bitch was a traitor, when I get back to Westerburg I’m going to crucify her!”

“Actually, Heather, you’re going to want to stay here for a bit,” JD said, relishing the fury he saw on her face as he registered his words.

“Stay here?” She demanded. “Are you fucking insane? No! No way! I’m a fucking hostage!”

JD shrugged. “Fine, figure out a way out and go back, but the sentinels will kill you as soon as they see you. They think you betrayed them.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted his flippant attitude. Hurt masked by anger washed over her face and the color disappeared from her face.

“No. No, you’re lying. You have to be lying, they wouldn’t… No. They couldn’t. Gowan couldn’t. Not me.” She took a long, shuddering breath. “They know I’m not a traitor. They know I would never give anything to disgusting rebel scum.”

There was nothing he could do to comfort her, and the idea of trying made him uncomfortable, so he stayed silent, waiting for her to be done. “I’m just telling you what Veronica told me.”

“Gowan wouldn’t do this to me,” She whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

She glared at him. “You’ve never been sorry for anything in your life, asshole. And you’re lying about this. I don’t know why, but it’s some kind of tactic. Well it won’t work. I will _never_ betray the state. Never.”

“Even though they betrayed you?” JD asked, grudgingly admiring her stubborn loyalty.

“They. Didn’t.”

“Heather, I’m not asking for anything. I don’t care about what you could tell me, or what you know. You asked me to find out if anyone was trying to save you. This is what I found out.”

“Get out,” She said, surprisingly commanding despite her situation. Something in her eyes made him think a part of her believed him.

He nodded and turned to leave, pausing at the door. “I really am sorry, Heather.”

“Get out!” Her power thickened the air, nearly choking him. Instead of her usual charm though, it was her overwhelming hatred of him, hatred so deep that it pushed its way out of her pores and surrounded him, trying to make him hate himself as much as she hated him.

JD left the cell and ran away from the cloud of her power, pretending as he went that he couldn’t hear her choked, furious sobs.


	11. In Our Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this took so long, this story is just really hard to write because I'm trying so hard to make it good. Thank you all so much for reading it! Enjoy!

Veronica woke up full of energy despite how little sleep she’d gotten.

They had a plan.

JD and Veronica were going to start something that could change their world forever.

The thought sent a shiver down Veronica’s spine, and she wasn’t sure it was from pleasure, or fear, or some combination of both.

Still, it was with more hope than she’d felt in ages that Veronica got out of bed and got ready for the day. Her thoughts were on Martha Dunnstock, who was the first part of her plan. Once she had Martha, they could work with JD to get a second plan.

At breakfast, Veronica watched Martha carefully. She sat far in the corner of the dining hall, her head ducked down to make herself as unnoticeable as possible. Veronica wondered if there was some illusion she could send, something that would make Martha smile and start a conversation.

But a conversation would be hard, because Veronica couldn’t just walk across the dining hall and sit beside Martha Dunnstock. Everyone would notice and ask questions, which was exactly what Veronica wanted to avoid.

Subtlety was key, and Veronica didn’t have a subtle way to talk to her. That left her with no options other than to sit around and wait for a chance to present itself.

Waiting was frustrating, but there were ample distractions to keep her mind off of it. Most of them centered around Heather McNamara.

She was spiraling out of control.

Veronica had been so preoccupied lately that she’d barely noticed how delicate Heather McNamara had become.

“First Heather, then Max,” McNamara whispered, “Who’s next?”

Veronica leaned over to Duke. “When did this start?”

Duke didn’t bother to lower her voice. “I think she had a bad dream last night. Rebels killed her parents, so Maxwell’s death hit her pretty hard.”

It seemed impossible that McNamara couldn’t hear Duke talking, but her eyes remained fixed, unseeing, on some point in the distance.

Taking a deep breath, Veronica lowered her voice even more, hoping Duke would get the hint. “How did they die?”

“The Freefont apartment fire.”

Veronica’s stomach plummeted. It was one of the most famous examples of rebel terrorism there was. Veronica had been about nine when it happened, and even then she’d known it was important. Now it was standard in every school for students to learn what the rebels had done.

They’d killed hundreds of ordinaries, picking a building at random and setting it on fire. Not because it was strategically located, not because they were trying to kill one particular person, not for any reason at all; just because they could.

If there was one argument in favor of the state, it was that they hadn’t ever done anything like that.

Biting back revulsion, Veronica asked a question that hadn’t occurred to her on the many occasions it should have. “Did J—Does Heather think the guy who killed Maxwell yesterday is the same fire starter from the Freefont fire?”

“It can’t be,” Duke said. “Or at least it’s really unlikely. I didn’t get a good look at the fire starter, but you said he was young, about our age. That would have made him a little kid at the time of the fire. No kid has the kind of control he would have needed to pull that off.”

Veronica tried to ignore the flood of relief that was so strong it made her dizzy. JD hadn’t set the Freefont fire. He couldn’t have.

“Actually,” Duke continued, “I think it might have been a close relative, probably one of his parents.”

The relief stopped in its tracks. “His what? I thought exception parents didn’t usually have exception kids, and the one’s that do don’t have the same powers.” Veronica didn’t know much about the way exceptions were passed on, but that was considered basic knowledge.

Duke smiled, fully in her element talking about the nature of exceptions and genetics. “It’s not common, you’re right, but there have been some cases of children of two exceptions also being exceptions. And sometimes, those kids get their abilities from their parents, except it gets stronger when it’s passed down.”

Veronica’s stomach was in knots. “So, the fire starter we keep seeing…. Is more powerful than the guy who killed all those people when we were kids?”

“Yes, absolutely. He doesn’t need fuel like the other fire starter did, he just makes fire with his mind, and keeps it going with focus and control.”

She had known that, she’d seen him use his fire, had watched the way he played with it like it was a pet. But she had also seen his hesitance, had seen the careful way he wielded it, keeping it close to his body when she was around. She had trouble believing he was unlimited in the way Duke was describing.

It also occurred to her that JD had only mentioned his parents once. “Heather, has anyone ever run away from Westerburg?”

Duke’s eyebrows shot up at Veronica’s off topic question. “What do you mean?”

“Just… it’s just a weird theory, but what if the reason the rebellion hates Westerburg so much is personal?” Veronica hoped that sounded plausible, because she needed to look at the records and see if there was any information about JD’s parents, assuming he was telling the truth about them.

“That’s actually kind of smart. I’ll look into it and tell you what I find.” Duke turned to McNamara, “Heather, do you want to help me study?”

McNamara didn’t look at her, or anyone. “No.”

Shrugging, Duke stood up, taking her mostly untouched breakfast tray with her. “Okay, have fun in class with Veronica.”

Veronica wished she could have gone with Duke. McNamara’s empty stare was creepy.

“So…” Veronica tapped lightly on Heather’s shoulder, hoping to snap her out of her trance, “How’s your breakfast?”

“It’s fine,” Heather said without looking at Veronica. “I’m tired.”

It wasn’t much, but at least she’d said something. “That sucks. It’s because you’ve been having bad dreams, right?”

McNamara nodded, and Veronica smiled, spotting an opportunity. “You should talk to Martha about it, she might be able to help.”

“Martha?” Heather asked. “The weird girl?”

“She controls dreams,” Veronica reminded her, “She might be able to help.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Heather finally looked Veronica in the eyes. “I’m not sure I want anyone messing around in my head. Not after…”

Veronica knew what she meant. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her and see how it works, and if it’s too, I don’t know, invasive, you don’t have to do it.”

“You would do that for me?” McNamara’s eyes were round and hopeful, more alert than she’d been all morning.

Mustering up a sympathetic smile, Veronica patted Heather’s hand. “Of course I would. Just give me a chance to catch her alone.”

Her opportunity didn’t come until after they’d had to sit through two classes and were finally released for free training. Veronica waited, taking her time in the locker room so that only she and Martha were left.

“Martha,” Veronica said, catching Martha before she could leave. “I wanted to talk to you about something, do you have a minute?”

It was dangerous to talk here, but Veronica didn’t have much choice. When Martha nodded, Veronica led her into the shower room and turned one of them on, hoping to cover up their conversation if there was a recording device in here.

If her strange behavior bothered Martha, the other girl gave no indication of it; she followed Veronica with an obedient, if curious, expression.

When the water was going full blast and Veronica decided they were as safe as they could be, she turned to Martha.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” She knew she was repeating herself, but the reality of what she was doing had set in, and Veronica was nervous. Staring into Martha’s wide set hazel eyes made everything feel real. Would this girl betray her?

“Is this about the fire starter? The one you dreamt about last night? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I never tell anyone about peoples’ dreams.

Veronica felt like her stomach was suddenly incased in ice. “Is it… what? I don’t—I didn’t dream about him!”

Martha shrugged, “It seemed like you were, but I left before things…” She trailed off, blushing.

Suddenly reevaluating her good mood, Veronica wondered exactly what had happened in this dream. “I don’t remember dreaming about… that.”

“Most people don’t remember their dreams, but I always do.”

JD’s appreciation for Martha’s abilities was starting to make sense to Veronica. “Oh. Um… well, yeah it kind of is about him.” She took a deep breath, feeling like she was about to dive off of a cliff. “I don’t trust Gowan. I think he’s lying about Heather Chandler being a traitor and I want to find out why.”

Martha’s eyes lit up and a smile brightened her face in to something that—while not classically pretty—was friendly and inviting. “I think you’re right! I’ve been trying to find Heather in her dreams, but I didn’t know her well enough to figure out what she might dream about.”

“You can do that? I thought it was more about… I don’t know people near you.” Veronica asked, momentarily sidetracked. It was perfect for communicating with JD, though Veronica was going to have to guess what he might dream about. A brief thought that he might dream about her made her blush before she pushed it to the back of her mind where it belonged.

“If I know what to look for, I can usually track someone down and talk to them.”

“Will they remember that it happened?” If they didn’t, Veronica’s plan would fall apart.

“Usually, but I haven’t tried it on a lot of people.” Martha’s face was so eager, so desperate to answer Veronica’s questions, that Veronica felt a little guilty, and she wished she had better motivations for befriending her.

She took a deep breath. “I’m going to figure out what’s going on, and that could cause some problems with the state. And I need your help.”

“Me?” Martha asked, her jaw dropping. “But… you hate me.”

Veronica shook her head so hard it hurt, “No I don’t! I just… I’m sorry Martha. I shouldn’t have let the others treat you the way they did. I shouldn’t have been a part of it.”

“That’s okay,” Martha said, “I always thought you were one of the good ones.”

Though she knew she had done nothing to deserve that distinction, Veronica was flattered nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“So what do you need me to do?” She looked so eager, as though she didn’t care about what might happen, as long as Veronica was being nice to her. Her naiveté made Veronica’s heart hurt.

“There’s someone I need you to talk to. His name is JD… he’s a rebel.”

“The fire starter!” Martha exclaimed, “Oh, I wondered if you two were working together, are you secretly a rebel?”

“No!” Veronica insisted, “I’m…” But what, exactly, was she? She wasn’t a sentinel trainee; she wasn’t really a rebel. “I’m something else.”

For a moment, Martha looked a little disappointed. “Oh. Okay. I can try to find your friend tonight; do you know what he might dream about?”

Veronica thought for a long moment. “Probably… I think probably fire.” _Or me_ , but she didn’t say that out loud.

“Okay. I should go, Fleming is mad at me for not practicing enough.” Martha turned to go, as Veronica reached to turn the shower off.

“Oh, Martha, one more thing,” Veronica said, catching her at the last second. “Could you maybe try to help Heather McNamara? She’s been having nightmares about her parents’ death.”

Martha nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do my best. Some things… some things can’t be fixed though.” She looked truly sad about it, and Veronica wondered if maybe she had some kind of empathy secondary, because surely no one was capable of feeling bad for someone who’d treated them as badly as the Heathers had treated Martha.

“Thank you. Really, Martha, thank you so much. You’re risking a lot for me.”

“They can’t catch me doing this, Veronica, you’re the brave one, not me.” She left, letting the door swing closed in Veronica’s face.

Her mission accomplished, Veronica went into the training room, ready to pretend to be normal for a little longer.

She ran into Heather Duke, who pressed a piece of paper into her hands. “Two people escaped from Westerburg about twenty years ago. One of them was a fire starter; the other had some kind of emotion manipulation ability. These people could be the parents of your fire starter, Veronica.”

“He’s not mine,” Veronica said, too quickly and with too much feeling. She changed the topic quickly. “Thank you, Heather. And I talked to Heather about her dreams, I think she’s going to be okay.”

Duke nodded. “Good work, Veronica.” She pulled Chandler’s red headband out of her pocket and carefully put it into her long auburn hair. “ We need to go tell Gowan what we found, he’ll be so pleased!”

Veronica’s stomach sank and her lips curled in disgust, seeing the mini-Chandler that Duke had become. “But we—“

“It’s important, we have to,” Heather insisted, “And I’m the leader of this team, so it’s my decision.” She turned on her heel, striding purposefully towards Gowan’s office.

“Heather, wait! You have to wait; you _should_ wait. I mean, we don’t have any proof yet. Once we do, then we should go to Gowan. Besides, he’s so occupied with Heather Chandler; maybe… maybe you should wait until that blows over. Unless you figured out where they are, based on something they did twenty years ago?” Veronica knew she was being a bitch, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want Gowan to be thinking about the rebellion, or JD. He had to stay focused on his new law, which was also a problem, but Veronica could only deal with so much at one time.

After a long pause, Duke nodded. “Fine. But I’m taking the credit for this. It was my idea.”

It hadn’t been, but Veronica didn’t correct her. “Of course, Heather.” Something about her seemed so desperate; Veronica couldn’t bring herself to try to take anything from Heather.

The other girl walked away with a dismissive toss of her hair, though the gesture looked oddly practiced. Veronica watched her go and breathed a sigh of relief.

Once Heather was gone, Veronica carefully opened the note Heather had given her. Two names were written in Heather’s neat handwriting.

Alice Quick and William “Bud” Dean. There were no pictures, just brief profiles, but Veronica still felt oddly sure that these were JD’s parents.

“Dean,” She whispered, looking around to make sure no one had overheard. She wondered what the J stood for.

* * *

 “Jason!” Deka snapped, “I want you to think about what you’re talking about. If you’re father found out about this—“

“I _know,_ Deka,” JD insisted, ignoring her irritating use of his full name. “But Veronica is right, we have to do something.”

“I’m with you,” Gideon said, “I owe both of you for what you did for me yesterday and I think you’re right. This is the right thing to do.”

Deka shook her head. “You’re young, and so sure of what’s right, but you don’t understand—“

“Then why are you here, Deka?” JD snapped, harsher than he’d meant to. They’d been having this argument since JD had filled them in on what had happened on the roof yesterday. Breathing deeply, he calmed himself as much as possible. “What I mean is, if you think this is wrong, why be a part of this at all.”

“When this first started, it was three people talking about another person. I wasn’t ‘part’ of anything,” Deka reminded him, and despite all his anger, her voice never wavered from her usual low tones. “I don’t think it’s wrong, not really. But I think it is very hard to know what is right.”

JD pinched his nose between his fingers, fighting a headache and the pressing need to set something, _anything,_ on fire. “We’re trying to help exceptions, to figure out what Gowan is up to and put a stop to it. Those are good things!”

“And what about dismantling the rebellion? She said she wanted that; are you sure that’s right?”

“The rebellion is run by a crazy person,” Gideon reminded her.

JD ignored him. “She has a point. The rebellion exists to fight the state, but we only ever end up fighting other exceptions, not the people who are really in power. If we manage to unite the rebellion with some of the trainees, or even some sentinels, we could destroy the sentinel system forever.”

Deka sighed, “Us and what army, Jason?”

He knew she was only using his real name to show how serious she was, but it still bothered him, like having a wool blanket thrown over his shoulders that wouldn’t come off no matter how much he shook. “Us, Veronica, whoever she can bring in.”

“That’s not much.”

Gideon smiled a little. “It’s a healer, a fire starter, a guy who doesn’t feel pain, and a girl who makes illusions.”

“And a girl who controls dreams,” JD added, assuming that Veronica could get that girl to help.

“That’s not nothing,” Gideon said. “And we all have reasons to be in this. We’re fighting for something, and that matters.”

That got Deka’s attention. “What are you fighting for?” Her voice was doubtful; she didn’t seem to expect much from Gideon’s answer.

“I have three brothers,” He said. “Two of them are ordinary and one of them is an exception. He’s the youngest, and I know this is bad, but he’s my favorite. I’m not sure what his powers are yet; he was only six when I left. I don’t want him to die a sentinel. I ran away and joined the rebellion so that hopefully, in twelve years when it’s his turn to go to whatever academy he’s supposed to go to, he won’t have to go. But now Gowan wants to take him away when he’s ten. Ten fucking years old. I won’t let that happen.” Gideon ended his speech glaring at them, as if expecting argument. It was the angriest JD had ever seen him.

“And you, JD?” Deka asked.

For a long time, JD didn’t say anything as he thought over his answer. Was he doing this for Veronica? He knew that was partially true, but it didn’t feel like the whole answer. His mom, whose nonsensical death would never stop haunting him? No, that wasn’t right either.

Finally, he said, “For every exception kid in every school that wants to fight back but can’t. Somebody has to get this started, and it may as well be me.”

“I once thought I was protecting those kids. My husband was sheltering them in our barn, and he told me they were being shipped to a state where exceptions weren’t owned by the government. After months of this, I found out that he had lied to me. He was selling them.”

JD’s jaw dropped. Deka had never spoken about herself, and certainly never in so much detail. He’d had no idea she’d been married, and certainly never would have guessed that she’d been a part of exception trafficking.

It was a disgusting thing, rich people buying kidnapped exceptions and using them as servants, or bodyguards, or anything else they could think of. JD hated the state, but at least sentinels were fed and housed, and were treated fairly. He stared at Deka, horrified. “What did you do?”

“I killed him. Then I ran.”

She said it so simply, her voice empty, but her eyes were bright with fury and bitterness.

Gideon looked a little sick. “That’s how you got here?”

“Yes. I was looking for a place where exceptions weren’t owned by the state, but I got here first and fell in with the rebellion,” She looked over at JD, and he couldn’t decipher the look in her eyes. “I decided not to leave.”

“You’re here now,” JD said, “You can help us. You know this is the right thing to do.” He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

“If we can find a way to do it,” Deka said, unconvinced but no longer angry. “It will take a lot of planning, and we’ll need help from your sentinel.”

“She’s not my sentinel,” JD said, though he would be lying if he said that her words didn’t make him want to smile. “And she’s working on a safe way for us to communicate. I’ll probably know if it works by tomorrow morning.”

Deka nodded. “That’s a good start. Gowan’s bill is the next step, we need to stop it.”

“They’re doing the vote in front of Westerburg, to celebrate the new students or something, we know they have some security vulnerabilities,” Gideon offered.

“How do you know that?” JD asked, shocked that he’d managed to hear something JD had missed.

“Everyone was talking about it in the dining hall this morning, you missed it because you slept through breakfast.”

That reminded him that he was hungry, but he ignored the feeling. They had plans to make.

“Do you think we can just attack Westerburg Academy when the entire government is there?” Deka asked, raising her eyebrows.

“No,” JD answered, starting to pace as he worked his way through their options, “But we can disrupt them. We can make our point in front of people, and maybe get more sentinels on our side. We can make them hear us.”

“That sounds… almost possible.”

They had to split up shortly after that, Deka was needed in the infirmary and Gideon was attempting to make friends with some of the other guys in the rebellion, in the hopes of finding people who didn’t trust the general.

JD spent the day avoiding people and thinking about Veronica. Their plan was insane, and kissing her had been a bad idea, but he didn’t regret either. This felt like the right path, and JD walked through the rest of the day with new confidence as he thought through it.

His optimism was dashed by the same nightmare that had haunted him for years. Flames and pain and voices screamed and grabbed at him from all sides, and though he was sure Veronica, Deka, his mother, and Gideon were around here somewhere, lost in the chaos, he couldn’t find them.

He knew it was a dream, but somehow that didn’t make him feel any better. A part of him was convinced that if he couldn’t save everyone here, he wouldn’t be able to save them in the real world.

The flames grew higher and hotter, and distantly, JD was sure he could hear screams. “Veronica!” He ran towards the sound, but only got more lost as he tried to reach her.

“Are you JD?” The voice came from somewhere behind him, and the sound if it was like cool water on fevered skin.

The world melted around him, until he found himself standing on fresh, soft grass next to a lake with water like glass. He turned and saw a girl standing a few steps away. “You must be Martha, the most terrifying person I’ve ever met.” He smiled slightly to soften his words.

Martha looked at him; she was blushing, but she returned his smile. “Veronica sent me. She says hello.”

“Tell her hi for me, when you see her. And tell her that I have two more people in this with me.”

“I will. Thank you for letting me be a part of this. I promise I’ll keep your secrets.” There was just a hint of desperation in her voice, as if she needed this to survive.

JD reached out to touch her shoulder, and was a little surprised to find that he could. “I know you won’t.” After a brief pause, he said, “This is weird.”

“It’s a dream world, dreams are always a little weird, even when I’m in charge of them.”

“Will I remember this?” This method of communication wouldn’t work at all if he couldn’t.

“Most people remember dreams that I’ve interfered with, I doubt it’ll be different for you.” She picked a rock off the ground and tossed it into the lake, watching the ripples disturb the water.

JD did the same, pretending to be casual. “Could Veronica come in here with us?” He had a lot of questions, as he’d never met anyone with this power before, but he tried to stick to his more relevant ones.

Martha shook her head. “She could appear here, but it would be your version of her, not the real her. I can’t bring someone into another person’s dream world.”

JD did the same. “So this is in my head? You’re in my head?”

“Yes. And I can sort of control it, but I have to use what’s already here. This lake is from your memories I think.”

Looking around, JD found that the lake was familiar. The rebellion had hidden in an old compound near a lake years ago, and JD still remembered it fondly. He was surprised he hadn’t recognized it at first. “Can you… can you see all my memories?”

She looked at him with round, earnest eyes. “Not everything, but I can see things you dream about a lot. I’m sorry about your mother.”

Biting back the defensive anger that always came up when someone mentioned his mother, JD nodded. “Me too.”

She didn’t try to ask him about it, for which he was grateful. Instead, they lapsed into an oddly comfortable silence.

After a while, he asked, “I’m glad this works, Martha. Thank you for doing this.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I can help. There are so many kids in the city who are terrified of becoming sentinels. They have dreams about it every night, and I have to go help them.”

“So you just go to random kids to give them better dreams?”

Martha shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “They need help, and I can help them. Being a part of what you and Veronica are doing is another way to help.”

“I’m glad you’re a part of it too, Martha. We need to figure out a way to meet with Veronica though. I want to talk to her.” He also wanted to hold her again, and maybe try for another kiss, but he couldn’t let his thoughts go there too much; he wasn’t sure how much of his mind Martha could see.

Smiling as though she had guessed his thoughts, Martha said, “She’s going to try to figure out a way to meet up with you, but—“

Before she could finish her sentence, the grass, the lake, and Martha herself evaporated as JD was pulled roughly into consciousness.

“JD! JD, wake up!”

He calmed as soon as he recognized Deka’s voice, breathing deeply to settle his heart rate. “What?”

Deka was hard to see in the darkness, but he could spot the glimmer of her dark eyes, and he could tell that she was tense. “JD, something’s happened.”

He didn’t know what she was waiting for; it wasn’t like Deka to shuffle around with her words, avoiding the point. “What?”

She took a long breath. “Heather Chandler is dead.”


	12. Decisions Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAH! I'm sorry for how long this took. I have an exhausting new job and that plus needing to sleep is cutting into my writing time, but I finally have it for you. As always, comments are appreciated. Enjoy!

JD sat bolt upright, raking his hand through his hair. There was no need to ask Deka to repeat herself; her words echoed in JD’s ears, ringing and demanding explanation.

“How?” He managed to gag out the question, already swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing a shirt off the floor.

“Poisoned.”

That made him pause in the middle of pulling on shoes. “What?” When he’d asked how, he had assumed the answer would be burning. It always was. “Who poisoned her?”

“I suspect that it was the general, but…” She hesitated before continuing, “She could have done it herself.”

Too dumbfounded to formulate anything coherent, he just choked out another “What?”

Deka sighed, long enough that JD paused again, letting some of her steady sadness influence him. “Everything she had ever known was taken from her. You told her that her state wanted her dead. She may have done it herself if she thought she had no other option. Or, your father may have seen that she truly didn’t know what he wanted her to know and killed her for it. Unless you speak to him, you may never know.”

In that case, he would probably never know. JD wasn’t supposed to know about Heather in the first place, there was no way he could explain how he knew she was here, much less ask how she’d died. “How’d you find out?”

“I went to check on her; I thought she might have wounds. I was too late, she was dead when I got there.”

JD took a moment to breathe, dragging his hand slowly through his hair, searching for clarity and finding none. “What the hell are we going to do?”

“I don’t think we can do anything.”

That wasn’t good enough. JD had promised Veronica; they were in this together, and he’d ruined everything.

“It isn’t your fault, JD,” Deka said, though her words barely registered with him; he was far too busy thinking and pacing.

“Why poison,” He asked, not really expecting Deka to have an answer. He just felt the need to speak aloud. “Fire would have been easier, and he could have used it to send a message. Why would he poison her?”

“If she did it herself—“

“She wouldn’t.” The words came out with more vehemence than he’d expected, but once he said them they felt true. “She was strong and smart, a planner, a leader. She wouldn’t have killed herself.” He paused his frantic laps around his tiny room to look at Deka. “Think about the girl in that cell, Dek, did she look like someone who would kill herself?”

Deka’s lips pinched together. “She looked like a girl whose life was over, even if she wasn’t dead. Everything she knew was a lie; she had no home, no friends, no family to go back to. And who else could have done it?”

The more he considered that the more worried he became. Without any effort on his part, fire collected around his fist as he paced, coiling there and waiting for him to use it. He didn’t bother to fight it off, instead he let it climb up and down his arm in snakelike bands. Something about this odd ritual, of gaining control of this thing that had tried to unleash itself helped him concentrate.

“Someone else,” He said slowly.

Deka looked at him, waiting for elaboration.

“The general wouldn’t have used poison, and I don’t think heather would have killed herself, so who could have killed her? Simple, someone else.”

Letting out an exasperated huff, Deka said, “Why? And who?”

That made him think and pause once more to keep the flames in check. “Because…” The realization hit him with the force of a lightning strike. “Because she might have talked. You said it yourself; she was broken. She might have said something, so someone stopped her.”

“But why would someone in the rebellion stop her from….” Deka trailed off as she caught on to what he was saying. “A spy?”

JD nodded. “A sentinel spy, in the rebellion. They killed her to keep her from talking.”

“It would explain the poison, but we don’t know who it could be.” Deka, unlike JD, was never frantic. She stood calmly and watched him pace, her thoughts only making her more still.

“It would have to be someone who knew about Heather Chandler.”

Gideon’s face flashed into JD’s mind. He was a new recruit, he’d risen quickly in the ranks, but JD couldn’t make himself believe it. After everything they’d gone through, it didn’t seem likely that Gideon wouldn’t have said something.

“For now,” JD said, making up his mind, “We trust no one. All of this stays between you, me, and Gideon.”

“He was planning on bringing more people into our… whatever this is.” Deka gestured around, encompassing all they were planning and all they wanted to do.

Shaking away thoughts of those bigger plans, JD frowned. “That was before we thought there was a spy. If you see him today, call him off. We can’t bring in new people unless we’re sure they aren’t the sentinel spy; we can’t take that risk.”

“And what will you do?” Deka clearly saw that he didn’t intend to stay around the rebellion.

This was the only other thing he was certain of, and any kernel of certainty was an invaluable commodity right now. “I need to talk to Veronica.”

* * *

Veronica’s day was the longest she’d ever lived through.

Her first thought upon waking was that she needed to find and talk to Martha, but that was easier said than done. It would be unusual for the two of them to be seen chatting—it was no secret that they weren’t really friends—but Martha might have gotten to speak to JD.

Martha, thankfully, seemed aware of Veronica’s need to speak to her, though perhaps not yet skilled in any kind of espionage. When she caught sight of Veronica at breakfast, she winked, leaning into the gesture to make sure Veronica saw it.

Heather Duke glanced over at her. “Is there something wrong with the dreamfreak’s eye?”

McNamara attempted a laugh, but it was obviously forced. Veronica said nothing to acknowledge that she’d heard Duke or noticed Martha’s odd behavior.

“How did you sleep, Heather?” She asked carefully, looking closely at McNamara.

She smiled a little. “Better than the other night; I had a nice dream.”

Veronica didn’t have to force her smile. “I’m glad.”

Training was dull that day, even though they weren’t in the classrooms. Veronica experimented with a couple new weapons, but found there was nothing she preferred to her staff or the gun she’d practiced with a few times now.

Halfway through a quiet session at the shooting range, Veronica realized why training had seemed so calm all morning. “Where’s Ace’s team?” Without Ace, Kurt, and Ram, the rooms seemed emptier and far less stressful.

“Didn’t you hear?” Duke said, though obviously Veronica hadn’t. “They got assigned to guard duty. That’s one step away from becoming a full sentinel!”

So Kurt, Ram, and Ace were now part of Westerburg’s security, and well on their way to becoming part of the state’s defense.

“Even after what happened to Maxwell?” McNamara said.

Though her question lacked sensitivity, Veronica agreed with McNamara; it was odd that the state would promote a team that had just lost a member.

Duke nodded. “Yeah, everyone is talking about it. Maxwell got killed right in front of them, and the guy that did it still got away, and then they promote them. It’s unbelievable. Heather would be livid.” Duke seemed to gain no small amount of pleasure from the thought.

Both Veronica and McNamara stilled at the mention of Heather Chandler. She would have thought the promotion was rightfully theirs—or more accurately, hers—and been furious about it for days.

As it was, Veronica was glad her team hadn’t been promoted. McNamara was fragile, and the thought of her parents’ death was haunting her. Duke was trying to hard to be Chandler, and failing hard. Despite her best efforts, Heather Duke wasn’t the kind of leader Chandler had been.

And Veronica… Veronica couldn’t be promoted to security because at any given moment she might be trying to plan a way to run off to meet up with a rebel.

That reminded her about Martha, who was gazing off into space, standing in the corner of the training room.

With Duke and McNamara distracted with talk of Ace’s team, Veronica muttered something about needing to get water and walked away, gesturing as subtly as possible to Martha on her way out.

Miraculously, Martha noticed and followed her, giving them a second to talk.

Veronica wasted no time. “Did you talk to him?”

“Yes! He was really nice, I didn’t think rebels would be nice, but he really was. And he told me to tell you ‘hi’”

Swallowing an exasperated sigh, Veronica urged her on. “What else did he say?”

“That he had other people who wanted to help you, and he asked about my powers. He didn’t get to stay long though, something woke him up.” She twisted her hands, looking up at Veronica as if expecting her to say that she hadn’t done enough.

It wasn’t much, but that wasn’t Martha’s fault. “Thank you, Martha. If you can try again tonight, ask him if he can meet on the roof tomorrow night. And tell him….” She paused, wondering what she would say to JD if he were here. “Tell him to be safe.” Perhaps there was more between them that needed to be said, but she didn’t want to think too hard about that.

Martha nodded, and Veronica left her there, returning to her training. The gun felt heavy in her hand, and her stomach pitched oddly as she pointed it at the human-shaped target.

Veronica squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger, trying to shake away the image of a face on her target. Could she shoot someone? No matter what side she ended up on—JD’s, Heather’s, her own—the odds were good that she’d have to pull a trigger someday. She hoped it wasn’t someday soon.

“Veronica, what the fuck was that?”

Her eyes snapped open at Heather Duke’s sharp words, and she caught sight of her target. She’d missed by a mile. The small hole indicating her bullet’s path was near the corner of the paper, several inches away from anything close to a good shot.

“Sorry, I messed up my stance.” Veronica knew a bad stance wouldn’t throw off her normally decent aim that much, and Heather almost certainly did too, but neither of them mentioned it.

This time when she faced the target, Veronica forced herself to look right at it, keeping her eyes wide open as she squeezed the trigger.

The hole was right where the target’s heart would be, and though she felt a little nauseous, Veronica smiled.

Would shooting a person be harder than that?

Would it feel exactly the same?

That thought made her shudder, and Veronica set the gun down. “I think I’ll practice something else for a bit.”

Duke followed her to the punching bags and leaned against the wall to watch as Veronica wrapped her wrists. “So, are you over it?”

“Over what?”

“Over whatever craziness made you let that sentinel go on the first day, and made Heather hate you so much,” Duke said.

Veronica sighed, closing her eyes so Heather couldn’t see her roll them. “I was never crazy, Heather.” That was a lie, but Veronica found she wasn’t as uncomfortable with it as she should have been.

Heather’s eyes narrowed. “That better be true Veronica, because trust be, the safest option is do be what they want you to be. It’s better to be a sentinel than dead.”

There was something so cold and assured about the way she said it. Veronica shivered and nodded, pretending she didn’t know what Heather was talking about. “Okay, I guess.”

For the hundredth time since she’d had the idea, Veronica was glad she’d recruited Martha. No one could catch them planning in their dreams.

Heather walked away after Veronica had thrown a few punches at the bag. After nearly an hour of vain attempts to get out her worry and anger, Veronica took a long shower and went to her room.

It was empty.

Heather and Heather had left the training room before Veronica, and she’d assumed she’d see them back in the room, but they weren’t here. A strange coldness filled Veronica’s stomach. Something felt wrong.

Her tablet pinged from her bedside table.

TO: VERONICA SAWYER

FROM: SENTINEL FLEMING

URGENT: MEETING IN CHIEF SENTINEL’S OFFICE. NOW.

Veronica moved mechanically to grab her black jacket before heading out the door. The familiar object helped steady her somewhat, though it did nothing for the numbness in her limbs.

This was wrong, strange, and very, very bad. They’d caught her. Martha had confessed. She was walking into her execution.

That thought brought Veronica back to her senses. She put her chin up and glared at the halls as she passed them; if she was going to die, she would do so with dignity. No begging, no lying, just stubbornness, pride, and fury.

When she got to the office, she didn’t knock. She pushed the door open and strode in confidently then stopped short.

JD was there.

They had captured JD. He was bruised, bloody, and tied to a chair. When she entered, his eyes flicked up, but they gave no sign of recognition.

Veronica swallowed hard. He was trying to protect her. Even now, he wasn’t going to reveal what they had done. Her heart thudded in her chest.

“Sawyer, I’m glad you responded so promptly to my message.” Gowan smiled at her, chillingly calm as he studied her face. “This… person was caught trying to enter Westerburg. One of our own was injured in the fight, and his teammates claimed that he was the fire starter who attacked me at the senate hearing. We want to be sure we’re charging him with absolutely every crime he’s committed, so we had to ask, is this the man that escaped you at the ceremony on your first day.”

“I…” Veronica’s mind raced. She had several options— all of them bad— and no time to think through them. She could lie, say that she didn’t know or didn’t remember, but that wouldn’t save JD. She could tell the truth, let them execute JD and carry on with their plans without him. Or…

Her eyes darted around the room. Heather and Heather were here, standing guard. Duke was probably using her powers to keep JD in his seat. Fleming and Gowan both stood, watching her carefully as she flicked through these options. Too much time had passed. She had to make a decision.

_“It’s not my fight.”_

_“It’s everyone’s fight.”_

Veronica lunged for Heather Duke, shoving her bodily into Heather McNamara, distracting them for a moment. She used her powers to summon flame, filling the room with fire and smoke to buy just enough time to knock JD’s chair unto the ground, breaking it.

He did the rest as she ducked and rolled away, barely dodging a bolt of electricity from Fleming. Some of the fire became real, mixing with her illusion to create a confusing inferno.

Gowan’s voice suddenly echoed through the room and the whole school. “All trainees on alert; Westerburg is under attack!”

 _Shit._ He’d made it to the intercom system and now the whole school was against them.

McNamara was nearly detangled from Duke, which meant they were running out of time. Veronica ducked again, and felt her hair crackle with Fleming’s attack. It hit a bookshelf, knocking it down on top of Duke and McNamara.

That was as much chance as they would get. Veronica grabbed JD—still not completely free of the pieces of destroyed chair—and bolted for the door.

Heather McNamara made it to the door using her speed and raised a gun, aiming for Veronica’s chest.

They were less than a foot apart. It was a sure shot. And Heather didn’t take it. She balked at the last second, and JD shoved her aside, grabbing her gun as he went. He tossed it to Veronica and she caught it gingerly as they left the office.

The halls hadn’t yet filled with students, but Veronica could hear many feet pounding on the floor above her. They didn’t have much time. Her palms were sweaty as she raised the gun; JD filled his hand with flame.

“This way,” She took JD’s hand and led him down the hallway at a run.

Gowan’s voice came over the system again. “Veronica Sawyer has betrayed us and the state, your orders are to kill her and her companion on sight.”

That wasn’t helpful. They rounded a corner, and Veronica’s heart—pounding with adrenaline and panic—skipped painfully. Kurt and Ram were making their way towards them at a run.

Veronica shot them both, putting a bullet into each of their hearts.

She had wondered earlier that afternoon if she would hesitate, if she could do it. Now she realized that she could, and not only that, it had been easy.

Without thinking too hard about any of it, Veronica stepped over their bodies and made her way to the window at the end of the hall.

Of course it was locked. For a second, Veronica thought that would be the end. Any other exits would be guarded by now, and it was only a matter of time before they were discovered.

JD wasn’t as defeatist as she was. “Step back.”

Even standing away from the window, Veronica could feel the heat from the fire he was pouring into the shatterproof glass. It gave way, just as the footsteps got close enough. Veronica could hear shouting too, as trainees rushed to Gowan’s office to put out the fire or rescue their leaders.

JD leapt out the window and held a hand out to Veronica. She ignored it and jumped out after him, landing lightly on her feet.

The wall—and freedom—was right in front of them, almost too easy. Moments later, they were over it and disappearing into the night.

* * *

JD glanced back at Veronica’s pale face, glowing in dim early evening. As soon as they’d left the confines of Westerburg, he’d taken the lead, and let her follow, glassy-eyed behind him.

Gowan had sent out an alert, and now their faces were everywhere. “FUGITIVES FROM THE STATE. VERY DANGEROUS.”

He liked the description, but not how exposed it made him feel. The only image they had of him was what they’d taken just after he’d been captured. He was bleeding, and one of his eyes was swollen from where that guard had punched him. With some healing, it would only barely resemble him, but Veronica’s picture was crystal clear. She was a massive liability, but he hated himself for thinking of her that way.

He’d been stupid and reckless, trying to break into Westerburg before it was fully dark. Veronica could have easily thrown him to the wolves and he wouldn’t have blamed her at all. She hadn’t, instead choosing to throw away her own safety to save him.

Even though it was the smart thing, nothing could have made him abandon her after what she’d done. After all her claims of neutrality, and how desperately she hadn’t wanted to pick a side, she’d chosen him. The thought made him oddly warm.

Rounding a corner, they entered a large square, lit with advertisements and a massive screen. A massive screen displaying ten-foot images of their faces.

Next to him, Veronica froze, and her face went from pale to gray. He heard her breath catch as she stared up at them, transfixed.

“Oh my god.”

He could see the details of their escape becoming real, sliding over her face and stealing whatever strength had kept her going up until this point.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into an alley. “Veronica, I need you to get your head on straight.”

“There’s nowhere to go,” She whispered. “They’ll find us. We can’t go to the rebellion, we might lead them there, and I’m dressed like a sentinel, they’ll shoot me on sight.”

JD planted his hand over her mouth. “Relax. We’ll figure something out. Getting out of Westerburg was the hard part; now it’s just dodging sentinels until we get back to the hideout and I’ve been doing that my whole life.” He smiled as much as he could manage and released her. “It’ll be fine.”

She nodded, and he created a small flame in his palm to see her better. He had to be sure she was really all right.

“I killed them.” She stated it plainly, a simple fact.

“They would have killed us; it was the only way.”

She nodded. He thought maybe his words got through to her, and for a second she looked almost normal. Then she grabbed his hand, burning herself on the flame he’d made before he could extinguish it.

The smell of burned flesh—one he was far to familiar with—filled the air between them and he retched. She’d burned herself. He’d burned her. Somehow both were true, and it sickened him to think that his fire had hurt her in any way.

“Veronica, I’m sorry, shit… why did you?” He looked at her and saw both pain and clarity on her face, and found his answer.

She’d needed to know that it was real, and the pain proved it to her. “Jesus, Veronica.”

If she’d heard him, he didn’t see any sign of it on her face. She held her palm close to her chest and made no apologies. “We should go.”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’re not far; we’ll make it there pretty soon.”

“I’m going to need something for my hand.”

Nothing could have brought a smile to his face in that moment, but he came very close in that moment. “Don’t worry, I know a great healer.”


	13. Fire & Lies: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's been a long time since I updated this, I'm splitting what would have been a massive long chapter into two shorter ones. I give you Fire and Lies Part One. Enjoy!

JD felt more relaxed as night began to fall. It was easier to hide now that there were more shadows.

They’d hidden the gun along the way, and JD had left it behind with some regret. The rebellion could always use more weapons, but it was dangerous to keep a gun in a pocket, and even more dangerous not to.

Veronica hadn’t spoken much since she’d burned herself, and he tried to pretend that he didn’t see the careful way she cradled her hand against her chest, occasionally wincing in pain.

 _Your fault. Your Fault. Your fault._ His steps seemed to echo the words as he tried not to look at Veronica. She’d grabbed the fire, but he’d been the one to light it, and somehow that made him responsible.

Another apology rested on his lips, but he didn’t say anything. Everything that had happened was too crazy, and she was overwhelmed. Hell, he was overwhelmed.

They were fugitives. Veronica had betrayed everyone she’d known for him, and it was painfully obvious that neither of them really knew how to process that.

But she was with the rebellion. She was with _him_ , and a part of JD couldn’t help but feel happy about that.

“Are we almost there,” Veronica whispered, breaking the silence.

Instinctively, JD’s eyes scanned around the street to be sure no one had heard her or noticed them, but they were alone. “Yeah, we’re getting close. I took us a long way in case we were followed.”

Veronica looked at him, and he couldn’t quite make out her expression in the darkness. “If we were followed, we’d be dead.”

She was right, and the reminder of their imminent peril was enough to make JD pick up the pace and start them on a more direct route to the hideout.

When they arrived JD skirted carefully around the edge of the warehouse that hid the ground floor of the rebellion. Everything else was underground, which kept them safe from sentinel discovery, but also made it hard for JD to sneak Veronica in.

He caught sight of the door guard and hesitated. Perhaps he was being hopeful, but he could swear he recognized that silhouette. Lots of guys in the rebellion were built like that, but something about his posture and stance was too familiar.

“Gideon!” JD hissed, only barely loud enough to be heard. “Gideon!”

The guard turned sharply, and a sliver of light fell over his face, just enough so JD could make out who he was.

“JD, where the hell have you been? Deka and I have been losing our fucking minds. We thought you were dead!” Gideon barreled over, before stopping in his tracks when he saw Veronica. “Holy shit. You brought her here?”

“I got caught,” JD said simply. “She got me out. We needed somewhere safe.”

Gideon’s brows furrowed together, and JD could tell he was wondering if the rebellion would ever be safe for Veronica. “She needs a change of clothes.”

“And a healer,” JD added. “Can you help us get to Deka? We could really use a lookout.”

Without hesitating, Gideon nodded. “You saved my life,” He said to Veronica, “I owe you one.”

Veronica smiled wryly. “I didn’t do much.”

“You let us go,” Gideon answered, weighing the words down to convey their full meaning.

“Yeah, she’s saved all of us a few times; we really need to move.” Perhaps it was just his imagination, but JD could smell a hint of smoke in the air and it made him nervous.

Gideon rolled his eyes and turned toward the door, muttering, “She only saved me once, she’s on what? Six for you? Jesus.”

Though he was fairly certain Veronica had saved him more than six times, JD didn’t correct Gideon. He took Veronica’s hand and led her towards the hideout.

Gideon walked ahead of them, checking around corners and gesturing furtively whenever someone approached so they could duck out of the way.

Veronica stayed pressed against the walls; shoulders hunched and head down as if that might disguise her unmistakable uniform.

The walk was far slower than it needed to be, something that chafed at JD as he was desperate to get to Deka, or anywhere that felt a little less exposed. Though it only took a matter of minutes to get to the abandoned surgery room, it felt like hours to JD.

“Wait here,” Gideon said, “I’ll get Deka. I have to go back to my post so I’ll see you later.”

JD watched him go, then turned to look at Veronica, who was still wearing the same vaguely shell-shocked face she’d had since they’d run from Westerburg. He wanted to go sit next to her, to try to comfort her somehow, but he didn’t know the best way to go about it, so he stayed where he was.

The door swung open, and both he and Veronica jumped a little.

“What the hell happened to you?” Deka narrowed her eyes and stepped further into the room to examine JD’s face, which was sore and bruised from the beating he’d taken when he’d been captured. After everything that had happened, he’d almost forgotten about the pain, which intensified, then vanished when Deka put her hand on his cheek.

There was no good way to explain everything that had happened, so JD told her the simple truth. “I got captured.”

“Gideon told me. He said the girl saved you.” Finally, Deka’s eyes settled on Veronica, and a small smile played around her lips. “So, you’re the little girl who started all this trouble.”

Veronica’s jaw tensed and she shoved her chin up. “I didn’t start it.” JD thought she might have been shaking a little, but he still admired her stubbornness; Deka was intimidating even when you knew her.

Smiling, Deka turned back to JD. “I like her.”

JD shuffled impatiently; he wasn’t entirely comfortable with both these women in the same room. “Can you heal her? She burned her hand.” The words fell awkwardly out of his mouth, and he choked a little on the word ‘burned’. Deka would know. She would hear those words and know that he’d done it.

Though her eyes narrowed curiously, Deka didn’t comment on it. “Let me see it,” She said to Veronica, who held out her hand for inspection.

Deka took it, examining the burn for a second. “This will hurt.”

Veronica flinched, biting hard on her lip, but she didn’t cry out. The room was just dark enough that JD couldn’t be certain, but he thought there might have been unshed tears in her eyes.

When she was done, Deka didn’t let go immediately. She held on to Veronica’s hand for just a second longer than necessary. “You have to be careful playing with fire, girl.”

Once again, Veronica’s jaw tensed, and this time she glared, meeting Deka’s eyes. Something JD didn’t understand passed between them, and when Veronica broke the gaze, it was as if something in the room had settled. Though it had passed over his head, JD could see that they’d reached some kind of agreement.

“You both need rest. You look terrible. JD, take her to your room, clean up, sleep if you can. We’ll figure out how to tell the general tomorrow.”

Too tired to argue, JD was happy to listen to orders and return to his room with Veronica following behind him. He was far less careful about being seen, but thankfully they didn’t run into anyone.

His room felt even smaller than usual with Veronica in it, and what little space there was between them felt crowded with unspoken words. Clearing his throat, JD stepped back so his back was against the wall. “You should shower and change.”

She smiled slightly, though it was far from a happy expression. “Do I smell like a sentinel?”

“No, I didn’t mean, I just…” JD trailed off, wondering when he’d become incoherent. “You look like you could use a break.”

Nodding, she didn’t argue with him, walked out of his room into the closet-like bathroom. He watched her go and breathed a little easier when the door closed behind her.

A soft knock on his door startled him, and he briefly wondered how he would explain it if anyone came in. But it was Deka holding a pile of clothes. “These might fit her.”

JD took them from her. “Anything is better than her uniform.”

Deka didn’t argue. “Be careful. Whatever she may look like, that girl is shaken up, and no amount of toughness is going to keep her together if she gets pushed too far.”

He was far too exhausted to parse through that sentence to understand her words. “Thanks, Deka.”

She seemed to realize nothing she’d said had sunk in, but she didn’t comment on it. Instead, as she turned away, she said, “Be careful, Jason.”

JD watched her walk away before returning to his room to sit on the bed and wait for Veronica, staring at the pile of clothes in hands without seeing them at all.

* * *

Veronica turned the shower on too hot, and stood still to let the water burn her back. At least she was feeling something. She’d been numb since they’d left Westerburg, and even before that she’d acted on pure instinct, something that she wasn’t accustomed to. Veronica liked to plan, to think about her options before she made a decision. In fact, letting JD go on the day they met had been one of the first truly impulsive things she’d done.

A wry smile crossed her lips as she wondered whether she would have done the same thing if she’d had time to think about the consequences, but when she thought of the boy waiting for her in the room next door, Veronica couldn’t help but be glad. She never would have known him if she hadn’t done everything she’d done that day, and it was no use wondering if Heather Chandler would still be alive if she’d done everything exactly the same.

Unable to bear the scalding water for too long, Veronica shut off the water as soon as she was sure all the dirt, sweat, and soot was washed off. It felt oddly intimate to use JD’s towel, but there weren’t any spares. She’d saved his life half a dozen times; he could spare his towel.

He was sitting on his bed, staring at a neatly folded pile of clothes when she emerged, and he stood up to hand them to her.

“Deka brought these for you,” He trailed off, looking at her.

Veronica suddenly felt intensely self-conscious. Her life had been so consumed with what would happen to her when she was eventually sent to Westerburg and when she became a sentinel that she’d hardly ever thought about having crushes on her classmates. They were all ordinaries anyway, and too wary of her powers to ever want anything to do with her, aside from Betty who was more like family. And she’d met JD on her first day at Westerburg, and he and his revolution and everything wrong with her world had kept her mind occupied since then.

This—standing, nearly naked in the bedroom of someone she had feelings for—was new territory for her.

Glancing at the clothes, Veronica attempted to act normal. “They probably won’t fit.” Deka had been taller and more muscular than Veronica by far, and based on what she’d been wearing, she preferred her clothes loose. They would be ridiculous on Veronica’s smaller frame.

JD shrugged in apology. “It’s all we have for now. Tomorrow we’ll find something else, or send someone out for it.”

“Right,” Veronica said, “We’re wanted. I’m a traitor.” And suddenly she couldn’t meet JD’s eyes anymore, so she took the clothes from him and retreated back into the bathroom to change.

The pants were baggy, but she tied them tight enough that they wouldn’t fall down, and the tank top was loose, but not uncomfortable. The change felt good, and when she reentered JD’s room, Veronica felt more awake than she had since they’d arrived.

“How are you?” He asked quietly, as she sat next to him on the bed.

She took a long time to answer. “I’m not sure. Everything happened so fast.”

JD didn’t meet her eyes. “Have you ever… Have you ever had to do that before?”

Veronica heard the words he didn’t say: _Have you ever killed anyone?_ “No.”

He nodded, and she knew that if he had been the one to kill Kurt and Ram, they wouldn’t have been the first, but she wasn’t brave enough to bring it up. A part of her didn’t want to hear about it, and a part of her didn’t want to admit that she didn’t really care.

She was tired. So tired that she just wanted to reach for him, and to know that she wasn’t in this alone. There was a small space between them, one that she’d left intentionally but no longer wanted, so she reached across it to carefully twine her fingers with his. He held on, running his thumb over the back of her hand.

The silence felt huge, and Veronica looked up, hoping that she might find something to say, but the words didn’t come. JD leaned down, and she thought he might kiss her again, and she thought she would probably let him, but it didn’t happen.

JD stood up, taking a defensive stance in front of her before Veronica even realized that the door had opened.

A small man with a pointed, rat-like face was standing in the doorway.

“So it’s true,” He said, lips curling up with glee as he eyed Veronica.

JD shifted, putting himself directly in between her and the man. “What do you want, Dyer?”

“Your father heard a rumor that you brought in someone new, and he was concerned because recruitment isn’t your job. I see those rumors are true, and I’m sure he’d like to speak to you.”

“Your father?” Veronica whispered, but JD held up his hand, silencing her.

Dyer’s smile grew impossibly wider, almost terrifyingly so. “Didn’t he tell you that his father is the general?”

JD hadn’t told her that, and this man clearly knew it, but Veronica found that she couldn’t even be surprised by the information. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or perhaps part of her had already guessed it. With all the information Duke had given her about the fire starter that had run away from Westerburg, this last detail fit into place neatly.

JD’s father controlled the rebellion. He was a fire starter, and a murderer responsible for the deaths of hundreds of ordinaries in the Freefont apartment fire. And she was about to meet him face to face.

“Come. He’s waiting for you in the third level basement.” Dyer turned to go, but looked sharply over his shoulder. “Both of you.”

Veronica looked at JD, noticing a muscle twitching in his jaw and that he was paler than usual. His eyes burned with an intensity that scared her, but his voice was steady when he said, “Veronica, promise me that if you get a chance to run, you’ll do it. Whatever happens, leave me and run. Hide if you can, and get out of here. No matter what he does to me.”

Suddenly she remembered the burn scars on his arms, and she choked on her revulsion; would she have to witness that? Would she have to see his father burn him as a punishment for helping her?

“I’m staying.” Her voice shook, taking away the decisive, stubborn tone she was aiming for.

He shook his head. “Veronica—“

“Now!” Dyer snapped, grabbing JD by the upper arm and pulling him forward into the hallway.

Veronica followed behind them, trying to ignore the people who emerged from various rooms to gawk at them as they made their way down the hall. When Dyer wasn’t paying attention, she hissed at JD, “Where is he taking us?”

His face was grim when he replied. “To the place where Heather Chandler died.”

She’d been wrong about Dyer paying attention, because he smiled at those words. “You mean where she was killed?”

“You killed her?” JD asked, almost neutrally, as if it didn’t matter.

Dyer nodded. “In a way. I left her untied in her cell with a bottle of poison. Ultimately, the choice was hers though.”

“You sick son of a bitch,” JD growled, and for a second Veronica thought he was about to fight Dyer.

He didn’t, sensing—as Veronica did—that it would only make their already awful situation worse.

Dyer left them at the top of a long staircase. “Your father is waiting for you downstairs.”

JD led the way into the basement. Veronica could see several shipping containers, but they’d all been pushed away, creating a massive open space at the bottom of the stairs.

In the center was JD’s father.

He was taller than JD, and lean, with a sharp angular face and gray hair. Veronica understood immediately why he was in charge of the rebellion; everything about him sent a message of dangerous authority. He was terrifying to look at.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” the general said slowly, barely sparing a glance at JD.

JD appeared frozen in place, and he didn’t say anything in response to his father’s question.

The general narrowed his eyes. “Well?” When JD still didn’t respond, he gestured to Veronica. “Come here, sentinel.”

She stepped forward, forcing herself to be brave. “I’m not a sentinel.”

Despite the circumstances, it felt good to say the words out loud. They were true, and for once she was sure of what she was saying.

“A trainee then, it makes no difference to me,” The general replied. They were face to face now, and Veronica could see that his eyes—unlike JD’s—were a steely gray.

“No,” Veronica insisted, though now that she was several paces away from JD she felt far less brave, “I’m not one of them.”

He laughed too loudly. “Yes you are, you’re all the same. You serve the ordinaries like a dog hoping it’ll be pet instead of kicked for once. You’re a traitor.”

That word seemed to wake JD from whatever terror trance he’d been in since they got down here. “No! She’s not a traitor; she’s been helping me.”

 _No JD, it’s a trap!_ Veronica thought desperately, though she knew there was no way for him to hear it.

“Helping you with what?”

JD froze and whatever words he might’ve said died on his lips and he stumbled over them. “I—We… She helped me get away with the attack on Westerburg and stealing the plans from the Remington party.”

“And what else? Those things happened a long time ago, Jason. You should have stopped speaking to her after that. She’s your enemy. So what else did she help you with?”

Veronica watched in horror as JD failed to say anything at all. What could he say? If he mentioned anything they’d spoken about, he would accuse them of trying to take over the rebellion, and Veronica could clearly see that that was what this was really about. It was a power struggle, and though Veronica knew JD was more powerful than his father, she could tell that he wasn’t winning.

“I think she was playing you. It was clever, really, to help you with small things a couple times, so that she could use you to bring information about the rebellion to her masters.” He turned to look at Veronica, “You’re a smart little thing.”

For a long second, he paused, and the room seemed empty of air as everyone in it waited to breathe.

And then the general shoved her back, hard. Veronica kept her footing, but not before she had taken several steps back.

“But she deserves to burn.”

“NO!” JD shouted, but Veronica could see that he was rooted to the spot, and his abilities seemed to have abandoned him.

Fear could make anyone powerless.

Flames curled affectionately around the general’s feet before they began to slowly make their way towards Veronica. She knew she should run but there was nowhere to go, and the attempt would only make it more fun for him.

JD wasn’t about to save her, and the general’s eyes were lit with disturbing joy; he wasn’t going to call off his fire. No illusion could save her now, so Veronica did the only thing she had left.

She lied.

“Stop!” She squared her shoulders and tried to ignore the heat from the flames, in sharp contrast to the cold air around her. “You don’t want to do this.”

The flames flickered slightly, and she could see some uncertainty on the general’s face.

Veronica took a deep, steadying breath, putting all of her power—her real power—behind her words. “You don’t want to do this. You don’t believe that I’m a traitor, and you don’t want to hurt me, or JD. You just want to leave.”

After hesitating for the briefest second, the general abandoned his fight and wandered, almost aimlessly past Veronica and out the door.

She didn’t breathe until his footsteps were no longer echoing on the stairs. At the same second, JD surged forward, wrapping her in a tight, desperate hug.

“I thought I’d lost you,” He whispered in her ear, “I thought he would kill you too.” His voice was thick and choked.

“It’s alright,” She whispered, fighting the intense desire to use her power to comfort him. It wasn’t worth it, even if it would pull him back together so they could talk. She let him hold her, patting his back gently until whatever had come over him passed. “JD, we need to go. I don’t know how long that will work.”

His grip didn’t loosen.

They stood there for a long few minutes while Veronica held him and let him cry. “JD?”

He pulled away from her, swallowing hard and visibly pulling himself together. “Yeah, I know. We need to go. I just… I have to talk to Deka first. After that… I think we need to talk.”


	14. Fire & Lies: Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me updating at a time that isn't two in the fucking morning! Anyway, I know this took forever to post and I'm sorry about that. I won't delay it any further by chatting, though I have to give a special shout out to Tumblr user Bombboii for the absolutely spectacular art she made for this fic. Go check it out! Enjoy!

JD didn’t let go of Veronica the entire time they were moving through the hideout. She was silent and shaking, her eyes darting wildly around, searching around every corner for some hidden enemy. Even as he snuck into the armory to steal a gun, he kept a strong grip on her wrist, hoping to steady her and reassure himself that she was still here, still safe.

Glancing back at Veronica, he caught her eye and wondered what she was thinking. What had she done to his father? How had she done it? JD had been certain that his father was immune to any mind-control ability— certainly having one hadn’t saved his mother— but whatever Veronica could do had just… stopped him.

That hadn’t been an illusion.

His head was spinning with questions, but every time he thought about asking one of them, the look in Veronica’s eyes stopped him. There would be time later, after they’d recovered.

Veronica’s wrist felt fragile in his hand but he kept his grip tight. The world felt like it was crumbling to dust around him, and she steadied him. Her power scared him, and the fact that she’d kept such a huge secret made him wonder what else she hadn’t told him, but he couldn’t let her go.

He needed her.

They needed each other. She’d run away from her home for him, only to have the only haven he could offer reject them both. Fuck it had all become so complicated.

“Stop!”

JD froze, his eyes jumping to the end of the hall where Dyer stood, blocking their only exit.

He glared at them, his beady eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you did to the general, but you’ll die for it.”

The light glinted off the pistol he held clutched in white knuckles. JD glanced at Veronica, thinking for a second that she might step in and save them from Dyer.

She took a deep breath, like she might speak, but JD drew his gun and fired, shooting Dyer directly in the heart before Veronica could say anything.

He must have looked like a madman; she had been seconds away from saving them. “He can see lies. I wasn’t sure if…” He didn’t know anything about this new power Veronica had; there was no way of knowing if it could have stopped Dyer.

They remained in the hall, shocked and frozen, staring at Dyer’s body, which was lying between them and escape.

It was Deka that jolted JD out of his trance. She appeared around the corner, her eyes frantic. “JD! My god, I thought… I heard your father had you in the basement, and—”

“Veronica stopped him,” JD answered, and then found himself suddenly unable to speak as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened.

Deka stepped over Dyer’s body and walked up to JD, putting her hands on his shoulders. “You need to go. You killed one of ours; she used her abilities against the general. You aren’t safe here.”

JD nodded numbly.

She pushed him, startling him out of his trance. “Go!”

Tightening his grip on Veronica’s hand, JD gave one sharp nod to Deka, hoping she could somehow understand everything he wanted to say, and then he ran, barely glancing down as he stepped over Dyer’s body.

Once again, the two of them plunged into the dark city, this time with even more fear, and nowhere to go.

Clouds had gathered during their ill-fated time at the rebellion hideout, and JD looked up at them with apprehension. That would be exactly what they needed after everything: to be caught in a rainstorm.

Though it was late, and with fugitives on the loose there were likely sentinels everywhere, JD didn’t bother with caution as he sprinted through the streets, towing Veronica behind him. She kept pace with him remarkably well, though he could almost feel her nervous energy, and it seemed every time he looked back at her, she was glancing away, searching for an imaginary pursuer. _Look at me,_ a part of him begged silently, _tell me it’s going to be okay. Tell me we’ll get out of this._

She avoided his eyes and stayed silent.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to go far. The New World building loomed above them, gutted and abandoned, only a few blocks away.

While it was under construction, it had been a rebel hideout, and even after the sentinels had cleared them out—killing many of them in the process—ordinaries avoided it like the plague because of the association, leaving it empty and desolate. That made it the perfect place to hide.

Once they were inside, JD slowed their frantic pace, noticing that Veronica was starting to lag behind, her arm stretched away from her as he pulled her forward. His secondary kept him from even noticing fatigue, but he could see it all over Veronica’s face and in the heavy way she moved, so unlike her usual grace.

After making their way up several flights of stairs, JD chose a room on the back of the building, facing away from Westerburg and out towards the city wall. It was exposed—whether by accident or design the outer wall of the building was gone—but if they stayed in the back corner, JD doubted they’d be visible. He didn’t want to have to look at Westerburg or the rebellion hideout. Instead, they faced out towards the city wall and whatever lay beyond it.

“Veronica?” He whispered, realizing that she hadn’t spoken since they’d left the basement. She wouldn’t even look at him until he put his hand under her chin, gently lifting her face towards him. “Veronica—“

She cut him off with a kiss, stretching on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him into it.

A small part of his brain realized that this was just another way of staying silent, but he didn’t care. His mind kept showing him what she had looked like as the fire crawled towards her, and he had stood frozen and unable to help. This, holding her and kissing her and feeling her against him, felt like the only way to prove that she hadn’t died.

She was here. They weren’t safe—they may never be safe again—but they were together.

Togetherness was enough for him, as he sank further into the kiss and tried to push that terrifying image out of his head. _She’s fine. She’s here._

Veronica pushed his coat off his shoulders, running her hands down his arms, and JD stepped back. His scars were on full display, and though he knew she’d seen them before, he felt far more vulnerable now.

Had she guessed what had happened? Could she?

“Veronica,” He whispered again, but once again, she cut him off, this time with lips on his throat, scattering whatever thought he’d been trying to voice.

He wanted her. He wanted to have something to channel all this fear and pain and desperation, and Veronica was right there with fears of her own to purge. It would be so easy—and such a fucking relief—to get lost in her.

For once in his life he just let himself lose control.

She was so warm as he pulled her closer, and his keen awareness of her hands on his scars faded as he focused on new sensations; her hands in his hair and her skin under his fingers, and that warmth which he couldn’t seem to get enough of.

The heat coming off her skin kept drawing him closer, and needing more of it finally gave him the confidence he needed to push her jacket off.

She sighed, the loudest noise she’d made since arriving, and tilted her head to kiss him again, pushing him back against the wall. A short breath escaped him when his head hit the wall, but the pain faded, drowned out by everything else.

When he didn’t move to escalate anything, Veronica pulled his shirt off, and he fought the very childish urge to cross his arms over his chest to hide the full extent of the scarring.

Not for the firs time, he wished they were gone, whished he could look at his skin and not think about that day. Veronica bent her head and kissed his collarbone, right where the scars would have shown through the collar of his shirt.

It was that, the silent acceptance, that finally snapped any semblance of control he had left, and he abandoned caution and gripped her hair drawing her in for another reckless kiss.

Her shirt was gone moments later, tossed aside and lost in the shadows. Though JD would have happily let her keep him pinned to the wall, she sat down and pulled him with her, straddling his lap and continuing her cautious explorations of his arms and torso, mapping his scars with gentle fingers.

She found a spot just under his ribcage that made him gasp, instinctively leaning closer to her. The faint light was just enough to illuminate her smile.

Sliding past the spot again, she brought her hands down to his belt and removed his pants.

Ignoring caution and logic, JD untied the string that was holding up the too-big pants she’d stolen from the rebellion. Nearly naked on the floor of a building that had never finished construction was hardly comfortable and far less than she deserved, but that was how things always were for them. They’d stolen every moment they had together, and now they were stealing a few more.

 _We may as well make it as perfect as it can be,_ JD thought as he bent his head and kissed her throat, moving further down to taste the thin skin over her collarbone. She hummed, and he felt it more than he heard it over the sounds of the storm finally breaking, rain crashing to the ground and thunder echoing in the night.

He carefully and thoroughly explored her breasts, sinking his head lower to be sure that he was savoring every second of this. Veronica’s hands traced the muscles on his back, occasionally scratching lightly whenever he did something she particularly liked.

Veronica moved closer to him, the bare skin of her legs touching his as an entirely different kind of warmth curled in his stomach, begging for more of her. More heat, more life, more time, anything they could get while they were here.

JD lifted her up, repositioning her so she was lying on top of him, and waited for her to make the next move. She didn’t hesitate. She shifted her hips the final inches that it took for him to slip inside her. Bending her head down, she rested her forehead on his, breathing deeply.

“Say something,” He whispered, desire tightening his voice until it was barely a gasp. He wanted her to be with him now, every part of her, and if that meant facing her terrifying new power, then so be it. “Please.”

Veronica ignored him and started to move. The thunder outside drowned out any noise she might have made, but he watched the lightning play over her face as she timed her motion with the crash of thunder.

She was the most beautiful, powerful, incredible thing he’d ever seen.

The same heat kept building inside him, so similar, and yet so completely different from when he lost control of his fire. It felt right to let this get stronger, let it take over, as Veronica kept moving, each twist of her hips becoming more erratic as she started to lose control too.

Skin and heat and motion brought them over the edge, first Veronica, and then he followed seconds later, gasping her name and pulling her closer to him so he could press his lips anywhere that was in reach. He said things in that moment that he knew he would never say again, because the sound of thunder drowned it out, and no one would ever know.

He kept his arms wrapped around her and created a small fire next to them when he noticed her shivering in the damp air. With the soft light from the fire, and Veronica in his arms, JD felt warm for the first time in his memory.

Outside, the storm raged and the world was against them, but here, in a forgotten building on the edge of town, they had everything they needed.

* * *

 

Veronica was still lying on top of JD, though they’d moved enough that he could pull his coat around her. Next to them, a fire burned on top of a metal beam, keeping them warm and lighting the room just enough for them to seem but not large enough to give them away to anyone looking through a window in another building.

It was oddly peaceful, something Veronica hadn’t felt since the night they’d fought on the rooftop. She was enjoying it, even as she built a careful barrier between them.

JD had a hand on her shoulder, holding her against him as he rested his head on her hair. “You haven’t said anything.”

It shouldn’t surprise her that he’d noticed her silence, but after what she’d done, it made her nervous to even speak. What if she did something by accident?

“I know what it’s like to be afraid of power. I’m terrified all the time that I’m going to lose control and kill someone. Hell, I have done that. I killed that trainee who hurt Gideon. I didn’t want to do that, Veronica; I got scared and acted on instinct.”

He sighed. “What you did in there… I don’t think you realize what it was. I wish,” JD paused for a long time, and Veronica listened to his slightly elevated heart rate below her ear. “I wish I could explain this without telling the whole story, but I think I have to.”

“My parents met at Westerburg. I think my dad knew from the second he set foot in that place that he was going to leave. I don’t know about my mom. I know they knew each other, but they hadn’t talked much before they ran away together. The rebellion found them, rescued them, really. They were fugitives, and they had nowhere to go. If the rebellion hadn’t taken them in, they’d have been caught.”

Veronica didn’t mention the parallels to their situation; it didn’t seem necessary.

“My dad rose up in the ranks fast. He was a great fighter, and ruthless. Fire is a useful power and combine that with his ambition and he was meant to be a leader. But he also had a secret weapon: my mom. She could manipulate emotions; make someone’s feelings stronger or weaker at will. I think my father convinced her to use that power to make people like him.

“The rebellion leader that saved my parents died mysteriously on a mission a few months after I was born. That’s when my father took over and when rebel attacks started changing. He hated ordinaries—all of them—because they benefitted from the sentinel system. He wanted to make them pay for supporting it. So he stopped the petty vandalism, raids, and occasional motivated attacks on politicians and started attacking buildings, homes, stores. It didn’t matter to him.”

Veronica almost wished Duke could hear this story, and know that so many of her theories had been correct. Hearing it answered some of her own questions about JD, and where he’d gotten some of the ideas they’d debated on the roof all those days ago.

Unaware of her thoughts, JD continued. “Deka showed up when I was six or so years old, and she and my mom hit it off. Back then, Deka wasn’t just a healer, she was a spy. Since her power isn’t very obvious and she can’t lose control of it, she was perfect for recruiting young exceptions in the city. She would find people who might be sympathetic to the cause, and then my mom would convince them that they wanted to join us.”

Did he care that they hadn’t really chosen to join? Though, the sentinels didn’t seem to mind forcing people to join their cause either. Veronica missed the days when things could be separated into categories of good and evil, with nothing in between.

“That went well for a few years, until my mom recruited an ordinary to help us. I don’t even think Deka knew about it, so mom must have known that it was a bad idea. The general found out and decided that it meant she’d betrayed him.”

Veronica thought she knew where the story was headed, and hoped desperately that she was wrong. It was too horrible.

“He made me watch. I heard what he was saying; I knew what he would do but… I couldn’t stop him. That was the first time I couldn’t burn him when I tried and I’ve never been able to since. I just… freeze.”

JD paused for a long time, taking several deep breaths.

“She couldn’t use her powers on him either. After so many years with her, maybe he built up immunity to it. I don’t know. But he burned her, Veronica. He burned her alive right in front of me.”

“Holy shit,” She breathed, unable to stop herself, even as she wished she could have said anything even slightly more comforting, and wished she hadn’t said anything at all.

He momentarily buried his face in her hair. “I reached into the fire to get her out. That’s… well, you’ve seen the scars. Deka pulled me away and healed me, though she says I almost didn’t survive it.

“Veronica, what you did today—“

“I lied,” Veronica said, finally allowing herself to speak. “That’s my real ability.”

JD nodded. “But… how?” He, of course, knew that she’d been tested for an ability when she was six years old, and that test would have revealed the nature of her ability; there was no way to cheat it. Or so everyone thought.

Veronica knew better.

“I knew before they told me. It started when I was really young. I once stole a cookie from the kitchen, and I told my mom that I hadn’t done it, even though she clearly knew that I had, but she believed me. Later, she seemed confused about it, like she didn’t know what really happened. It only got stronger. There was this girl who lived next door, and I thought she was so pretty, so I told her she was my friend. She believed me.”

People always believed Veronica when she wanted them to.

“When they tested me for an exception when I started school, they told me I could lie. I told them they were wrong.”

“They believed you?” He said, echoing her words.

She nodded. “They said illusions were my secondary, so I made that my primary, and not just in their system. I made my first illusion by accident, but after that I practiced. I made sure I was good, good enough that people would believe that they were my main ability. I’m lucky I have two secondaries; no one ever really questioned it.”

It was an enormous deception, and she wondered if he appreciated the full scale of that lie. He had never been a part of the sentinel system, having been born in the rebellion. Could he possibly understand what she’d done, how many people she’d had to fool?

“At six years old, you lied to two government officials and made them change your record… Jesus, Veronica, why?”

“Because my mom told me lying was bad. I didn’t want to have a bad power.” How stupid and simple that answer sounded now.

He laughed, but sobered quickly. “But why keep lying about it? And why haven’t you used it? I mean, Veronica, think about what you could do!”

“I know what I could do,” Veronica snapped. “You think fire is bad? Accidentally burning someone? If I wanted to, I could force everyone to love me. I could make someone want to kill themselves. If I told you that you wanted to eat that pile of nails in the corner, you would do it.”

“But you could also tell ordinaries that they don’t want the sentinels to be enslaved anymore! You could tell the senate to change their policies—“

“Yes. I could rule the fucking world. I. Don’t. Want. To.”

“I just—“ He paused, clearly searching for the right words.

Veronica didn’t let him find them. “I never use it unless my life is in danger. I don’t want to control people. I…”

“You don’t want to see what you’d become,” He whispered, understanding and resignation in his voice.

It struck Veronica then that JD knew exactly what he would become if he stopped caring whether or not he lost control. He had already seen it in someone else.

Veronica smiled softly and reached up to stroke his hair. “So, no easy fixes for us, I guess.”

“I guess not.” He returned her smile. “We’ll have to find another way to destroy a corrupt system and fix society.”

“How hard can it be?” They both laughed, though Veronica could hear their hopelessness in the forced humor.

None of it sounded possible.

They fell silent for a long time, and Veronica had begun to think JD was asleep, when he said, “I don’t think it’s lying. I think you can convince people of anything. It’s not a bad power.”

It almost sounded like he was saying _You’re not a bad person._

 

The next morning came earlier than Veronica would have liked. Westerburg had kept her on a rigid schedule that hadn’t allowed for many lazy mornings, but the sun streaming in at dawn was far from a pleasant awakening.

Neither was the low, dull pounding Veronica could hear coming from beneath them.

“Veronica,” JD hissed beside her, “Can you hear that?”

She nodded.

“We have to go. I think someone’s trying to get in.”

“Who?” Veronica whispered, standing up and grabbing her clothes from the floor. Once JD had gathered his things, the only trace of their stay was the faint burn marks on the metal beam he’d used to keep them warm last night.

JD shrugged, pulling the gun out of his pocket, an action that sent shivers down Veronica’s spine, though she knew it was better to be armed than not. “I don’t know, but since we don’t have any allies, we should assume they’re enemies.”

Nodding, Veronica pulled her jacket on and followed JD towards the stairs they’d come up last night. In the light of day, the building looked even less finished than it had last night. There were holes in the walls and the stairs creaked dangerously as they picked their way down them.

“What happened to this place?” Veronica asked, realizing that she’d been so out of it yesterday that she hadn’t even asked where they were.

“It was a rebel hideout for a while because construction got delayed. When the sentinels figured out we were here, they attacked it. A lot of people died, and no one ever wanted to finish the building because it was tainted by the rebellion.” He said the last part with a bitter twist.

Another rumble shook the building and they fell silent, making their way towards what Veronica hoped would be an exit.

They rounded a corner and JD stopped short, forcing Veronica to peer around his shoulder to see what had startled him.

There were sentinels everywhere. Just one floor beneath them, circling the building and getting organized to attack.

“Holy shit,” JD breathed, backing into Veronica as he retreated away from the opening in the wall.

Veronica looked at him, trying hard not to let her panic show. “Why are there so many of them? There are only two of us.”

JD reached out and gripped her hand with the one that wasn’t holding the gun. He led the way to the other side of the building, where there were fewer sentinels.

“It’s a risk,” Veronica whispered, looking down. It was a long way to jump, and there were still sentinels here, certainly enough to kill them.

“We’re going to have to fight our way out no matter what,” He glanced at her, eyebrows raised in question. “Unless you want to…”

“No. I can’t… No. But I can keep them from seeing us, if you stay close to me.”

“That will work. Just in case, you take the gun.”

Veronica took the weapon from his hand, hating that she felt more secure with it. “Don’t move too far away from me, and make sure you don’t touch any of them.”

He nodded. “Okay. Are you ready?”

Veronica took a deep breath, focusing her mind to cloak them both in an illusion. “One, two.”

They locked eyes for a brief second. “Three.”

And they jumped.

Veronica gripped an exposed beam, using it to slide down and slow her fall. She heard JD land next to her, and hoped he hadn’t broken anything; their odds were bad enough as it was.

She held her breath as they walked past a sentinel wearing a black reflective mask. He was speaking into a communicator. “No sign of them back here; do we move in?”

Tensing, Veronica inched past him, clinging to JD’s hand and fighting with everything she had to keep the illusion perfect.

There was a faint hiss from the communicator as the sentinel’s superior replied, and Veronica leaned in to hear what she said.

When the sentinel turned sharply to give orders to the rest of his squad, he bumped into JD. It happened so fast that Veronica was still processing when JD brought his elbow up and dug it into the sentinel’s chest, silencing him.

The illusion was long gone, and running was their first priority. JD maintained his grip on her hand, as they bolted for a gap between buildings.

A bullet whizzed past Veronica’s ear, shocking her so much that she nearly stopped. Turning around without slowing her pace, Veronica pointed the gun and fired. Behind her, there was a shout of pain, and Veronica flinched but kept running.

Together, they wound their way through the streets, getting closer to the heart of Sherwood. It wasn’t a safe direction to travel, but both Veronica and JD were too focused on getting away to think much about where they were going.

They stopped near a dangerously busy corner, huddling in the shadow of an alley to catch their breath. Veronica handed JD the gun so he could store it somewhere out of sight.

Veronica was ready to ask JD what their next steps were when a pair of hands reached out and grabbed her from behind, yanking her into the alley.

Her heart dropped to the floor, and her training kicked in, she put all her weight into her captor’s arms, and felt their grip relax for a second, she took her opportunity and spun around, fist raised.

“Veronica, it’s me!” Betty Finn was cowering, hands above her head, clearly terrified.

Veronica let her fist drop. Next to her, JD had raised the gun, and his aim wavered slightly when he heard Betty say Veronica’s name.

“So it’s true?” Betty said breathlessly, looking from JD to Veronica. “You really did run away with a rebel. I saw it on the news and couldn’t believe it, but gosh, here you are.” She looked at JD and fell silent; her eyes round behind her glasses.

“It’s not…” Veronica hesitated, wondering if there was any way to abridge the events that had led them here. “It’s complicated. JD, put the gun down, we can trust her. Right Betty?” All she wanted was someone to trust, and seeing her old friend here, like this, made her want to cry.

Betty nodded and cautiously reached forward to hug Veronica, a gesture she returned, much to both their surprise. “Yes, of course. Come with me, you can stay in my apartment. No one will look for you there.”

JD’s eyebrows lifted. “You know that’s harboring fugitives, right? It’s treason, you’ll be killed.”

Squaring her shoulders, Betty met his eyes, and Veronica was surprised to see that in the weeks since she’d last seen her, Betty had grown up. “If the law is morally wrong, then to break it is more than right, it is necessary.”

Veronica stared at her. “You seem different.”

“After you left, I moved out of my parents’ house and started taking classes at the university. I met some people, and they introduced me to the Organization for Exception Freedom. We were trying to change the sentinel system, but Gowan’s bill threw us for a loop, and now we’re putting all our energy into fighting that.”

“There are ordinaries trying to free exceptions?” JD asked, obviously dumbfounded.

Betty nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! There are more of us than you think. But we can’t talk here, let’s get you back to my place.” She turned and started to walk away, before looking back with a small smile. “And Veronica? It’s really good to see you.”


	15. Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really heating up! Sorry if the cutoff is a bit odd but there's a lot for the next chapter and this really was the best stopping point. Enjoy!

Betty’s apartment was small and plainly decorated, but quiet and shockingly easy to sneak two high-profile fugitives into.

JD breathed easier as soon as they were inside. The gun was still clutched in his sweat-slicked palms, but his grip relaxed slightly when they were inside and the door was locked.

“Pull the curtains,” He said, more sharply than he meant to. Fear was keeping him tense.

Betty and Veronica moved quickly around the room, drawing the curtains over the windows.

JD looked around, assessing the room. “We need—“

“You need to breathe,” Betty interrupted. She crossed the small living area to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, which she handed to him. “Drink this.”

It was nice to relax for a second and follow an order. JD had finished the glass before even had time to realize that he hadn’t noticed how thirsty he had been. “Thank you.”

He was far from at ease in an ordinary’s home—in fact, he was fairly certain this was the only time he’d been in one aside from missions—but he tried to act natural as he looked around Betty’s apartment.

The three of them were silent for a minute, as they all slowly realized where they were and what was happening.

Betty lowered herself slowly onto a chair. “Holy fuck.”

Veronica’s eyebrows shot up, and JD had to wonder if that was the first time Betty had ever cursed. She knelt next to her friend. “Are you okay?”

With a fire in her eyes, Betty looked up. “Yes. I’m doing the right thing.” She glanced at JD and swallowed hard. “Veronica, I’ve trusted you my whole life. Tell me the truth; can I trust him?”

Slowly, Veronica nodded. “Yes.” She reached up and grabbed his hand. “We’re in this together.”

“Good. I’ve been involved in something too, and now I want you to be a part of it.” Betty crossed the room and rifled through some drawers until she had dug out a machine that might have been a valuable antique if it hadn’t been such a piece of junk. “I need to call some people.”

“Who?” JD asked, instantly tense again. There were too many people out to get them, he couldn’t risk more people knowing their location.

Betty looked up at him before returning her attention to the machine as she continued to fiddle with the dials. “Some of my more radical allies from the OEF. They’ll be able to help you.”

“Able, maybe,” Veronica said, “But will they be willing?”

She shrugged. “Probably. If it was just you, Veronica, I think they would, but a rebel fire starter… people are still touchy about the Freefont fires—“

“I had nothing to do with that,” JD insisted. “And how do we know we can trust your friends?”

“And what will they want?” Veronica asked. “What you said you did is good, legal action and all that, but JD and I are way beyond that. We committed treason. Anyone who knows where we are will need to be ready to do the same, Betty.”

“Well…” Betty hesitated for a long time, and JD caught a glimpse through the tough exterior she’d been hiding behind. “We want… I don’t know. I need them here to talk about this. You’re right that our usual action isn’t enough for this, but… We aren’t the rebels, Veronica. None of us want to see people get hurt.”

JD muttered, “You started it,” Which earned him a glare from Veronica.

“What if…” Veronica spoke slowly, and he could see the ideas forming in her head. “What if everyone came here?”

“Everyone?” Betty asked. “Who do you mean?”

Realization dawned on JD. “Rebels, sentinels, and ordinaries. We each bring people who can represent our groups, and then we all decide what to do. That’s what you meant, right?”

Veronica beamed. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

“I’m not sure. I know my friends will be hesitant to work with rebels. You guys have killed a lot of ordinaries,” Betty pointed out.

“We’ve killed a lot of exceptions too,” JD said. “If we have any chance of stopping it, we need to work together. You said that you support exceptions, were you telling the truth?”

Betty sighed. “You can bring two people. More than that and it might look like a trap.”

“We’re forgetting something significant,” Veronica said. “How are we going to get sentinels? I might be able to talk to Martha if I ever manage to sleep, but who else?”

“Sorry, Veronica, I think we’ll have to count you as a sentinel.” JD felt just as uncomfortable with the idea as Veronica looked, but if this plan had a hope in hell of working, they needed people from all sides. He raised his eyebrows at her. “You’ve made some good points about them before.”

She sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll go to Westerburg after dark and get Martha.”

Fear settled in JD’s stomach. “Do you really have to go back there?”

“I don’t think Martha could sneak out on her own.” She smiled wryly. “At least it’s the last place they’d look for me.”

It wasn’t a comforting thought.

Betty went back to her machine, flicking a button until the thing reluctantly began to make noise. She leaned in and spoke to it. “This is Princess, I found two dragons and I want to show you. Come to the clubhouse at one.”

She repeated the nonsense twice, before a rough crackling cut her off. “Holy shit, you have got to be kidding.” There was a pause. “This is Knight.”

“What about Wizard? Have you heard from him?”

“He’ll be home soon. Bet—I mean, Princess, this is a bad idea. We don’t know that they’re… um, tame.”

“They’re fine, I promise. They want to meet you. Just say you’ll come to the clubhouse at one.”

“Fine, but if I die, I’m going to be mad at you.” The line went dead.

JD stared at the machine for a long time. “That was the stupidest code I’ve ever heard.”

Betty glared at him. “The state doesn’t make a concentrated effort to monitor radio waves, since the tech is so old, so it’s a good way to communicate. We use the code so we sound like kids messing around if they happen to be listening.”

He had to acknowledge that it was a smart system, even if the code was still stupid.

“We should rest here for a while,” Veronica said. “Then go get our people. JD, I assume you’re going to get Deka and that guy that helped us get in yesterday?”

“Gideon? Yeah. I’ll try to avoid the general if I can. If not…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He had no idea what he would do.

Veronica nodded. It was clear that she understood, and he appreciated that she was at least pretending not to be worried. “I’m going to get Martha, and if I run into someone else,” She hesitated. “If I run into someone else I’ll have to fight my way out.”

“I understand.” He understood that she meant she wouldn’t use her powers to get out, even if it cost her life.

They spent the next few hours resting and preparing and pretending not to be terrified.

When it was finally time to split up, Betty gave them both directions to the clubhouse and wished them luck before locking her apartment door behind them.

Veronica and JD stared at each other. JD tugged at the collar of his coat, pulling it up to hide his scars. “Veronica, I—“

“JD,” She paused. “Go ahead.”

He couldn’t remember what he’d been planning to say. “Good luck. Be careful.”

She nodded. “You too.”

They stood there awkwardly for another beat. “I should go,” Veronica said, though she didn’t move.

There was so much that they hadn’t said—so much that they would probably never say—and those words hung in the air between them. Everything that morning had happened too fast, and though they’d had time to talk earlier, Betty’s presence had made it strange.

Veronica reached up and kissed him softly, breaking the awkwardness. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

JD watched her go, wishing everything could have been different.

* * *

Veronica forcefully shoved JD out of her thoughts. She didn’t have time to think about her feelings for him, or what had happened between them last night.

Their lives didn’t have room for whatever was developing between them, and she knew she should put a stop to it.

A bullet would probably put a stop to it soon anyway, though, so she didn’t regret anything.

As she approached Westerburg—carefully keeping to shadows and hiding herself with illusions whenever she saw anyone—Veronica’s heartbeat steadily got faster.

She was back.

Bile rose in her throat as she looked at the building. She thought of all the young exceptions that had been confined to these walls until they were brainwashed enough to die for the state.

 _I won’t be another one,_ She vowed to herself. _I won’t die for this._

With that thought drumming in her mind and heart, Veronica climbed over the wall and crept around until she could climb through the window to the only room she knew would be empty.

Except Heather Chandler’s bedroom wasn’t empty.

A figure sat huddled on the floor, pressed against the bed and curled in on itself.

As Veronica stepped closer, she recognized the bold yellow design on her uniform. “Heather?”

Heather McNamara lifted her head, and Veronica saw her tear streaked face through her tangled hair. Clutched in her hands, Heather held a gun. “Veronica?”

Veronica put her hands up, eyeing the weapon. “Heather, what are you doing in here?”

It was a stupid question, considering Veronica was the one breaking in, but Heather didn’t seem to care. “Go away, Veronica. You’re not supposed to be here and I want to be alone.”

“Heather, why do you have a gun?” A weird, sick feeling had settled in Veronica’s stomach, and though she wanted to get on with her task, she couldn’t leave Heather here like this.

“This was supposed to be private,” Heather whispered, cradling the gun in her hands.

“Nothing here is private,” Veronica said, unable to hide her bitterness.

“Heather is dead.”

Veronica nodded. “Yes. Tell me why you have the gun.” She knew she could make Heather tell her, but she was carefully keeping her powers in check.

“I don’t know how to betray the state, except to kill a sentinel, like you did. But I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“You want to betray the state because I did?” Veronica asked, confused and more than a little disturbed.

“You and Heather,” Heather said, as if it should be obvious.

“Heather didn’t betray the state. Only I did. Give me the gun, Heather.”

She pulled the gun closer to her chest. “No! I need it.”

Looking around, Veronica tried to count her options, but didn’t find many. She settled on the only one she thought she could live with. “Heather, if you really want to betray the state, why don’t you come with me?”

“What?” Heather glanced up, her eyes almost clearing for a moment.

Veronica stepped forward cautiously, and sat next to Heather against the bed. “Killing yourself doesn’t do any good. If you really hate what the state did to Heather, then come with me and help me fight them. It’s better than being dead.”

Heather turned the gun over in her hands and stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, she handed the gun to Veronica. “Okay.”

A smile spread across Veronica’s face. “We just have to make one stop first.”

It was easier to get through Westerburg with Heather. No one asked her where she was going, or questioned her at all as she walked, and Veronica—cloaked in an illusion—was able to disappear almost completely behind Heather’s taller frame. No one looked closely enough to see the faint outline of her body.

Martha was thankfully alone in the room she shared with her team. She was asleep, lying perfectly still on her back.

“Martha?” Veronica whispered, even though there was no one to overhear her now that the door was shut. “Martha!”

She didn’t stir.

Sighing, Veronica approached the bed and shook Martha. “Wake up! We need to go!”

Her eyes snapped open and she sat up. “Veronica, what are you—“

“No time, we have to go.” Veronica knew that talking with Heather had held her up, and getting out would be harder than getting in.

Martha was still groggy, but the words seemed to get through to her. “Veronica, I can’t just leave.”

“I’ll get you back in, but we need to go now. We’re having a meeting and I need you to be there.”

“I’m not sure.” Martha looked around the room, and Veronica saw her fear and reluctance paint themselves across her face.

“Martha, we’re trying to come up with a way to change things, to end the sentinels and the rebels and fix the state for good.”

There was a very long silence. Then Martha met Veronica’s eyes. “I’d like that.”

She was up and dressed in moments, and the three of them made their way out the window. Neither Veronica nor Heather had any difficulty, but Martha struggled to keep up. Veronica did her best to be patient, but she knew how little time they had. She’d been getting lucky since she got to Westerburg, and sooner or later that luck would run out.

“We just have to make it over that wall. It’s a quick climb,” Veronica promised, not mentioning the long walk to Betty’s clubhouse that would follow.

A spotlight swept across the grounds, and Veronica pulled Heather back into the shadows, cloaking all three of them in an illusion that would help them fade out of sight.

“The spotlights are new,” Veronica whispered.

Heather nodded. “They’ve been increasing security since you left. They thought you would come back.”

“They were right,” Veronica said. Once the light had moved to a different part of the courtyard, Veronica pulled on Martha’s hand and ran over the grass.

The wall was only a few feet in front of them; Heather was already there, and ready to jump over it.

“Stop!”

Veronica didn’t freeze, but Martha was too used to following orders, and she did, yanking Veronica back.

Martha caught herself a second later and started to run again, but it was already too late. Sentinels and trainees were flooding the courtyard.

They were caught.

* * *

JD didn’t bother trying to sneak into the hideout. He strolled up to it with his head held high and his hands lit, ready for a fight if anyone tried to start one.

No one did.

The door guards let him in with barely a glance, and no one tried to stop him as he walked through the endless hallways towards the infirmary.

It felt like no one noticed him when he walked into the infirmary. A part of him had been expecting everyone to treat him like a traitor, to try to stop him or fight him, but no one did. They continued to work the same way the always did.

JD crossed the room to Deka’s station, where she was treating someone with a badly bruised face. After some healing, JD recognized Gideon, who—despite the injuries—smiled when he saw him. “He’s back!”

“Yeah, but I’m about to leave again. We’re having a meeting—me, Veronica, and a few other people—we want to… Well, it’s complicated. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Deka pursed her lips. “You expect us to go with you?”

“I want you to,” He said.

“I’m going.” Gideon stood decisively, and Deka shook her head with a frown.

“You’re both going to get killed.” She grabbed a bag off a nearby table and turned to JD. “Alright, I’m ready.”

He had to laugh at her nonchalance. “Then let’s go. I’d rather avoid a family reunion.” He looked at Gideon, whose face had just finished healing. “Are you okay?”

“Some guys found out I was the one to let you in and weren’t too happy about it. Don’t worry, I can take a hit.”

“Trust me, I know.”

The three of them walked out of the infirmary together, and left the hideout without incident.

“Was that strange?” JD asked, looking behind him at the doors. “I thought that would be harder.”

“It should have been,” Deka agreed. “I don’t like this. It’s unlike the general to just let us go.”

Gideon shrugged. “We can worry about that later. JD, tell us about this secret meeting.”

JD didn’t feel like telling them the whole long story. “Veronica and I hid in the New World building, but the sentinels searched it. We escaped and happened to find Veronica’s friend from school, before she went to Westerburg. Turns out Betty is a part of some organization that’s trying to change the law to free exceptions.”

“And she set up this meeting?” Deka asked.

“Yes. She’s bringing two people and I’m bringing two people. Veronica is bringing Martha, who helped us once before, and we’re going to try to work out a plan.”

“A plan to do what?” Gideon asked.

There was no simple answer. “To fix things. To make them better.”

When they arrived at the address Betty had given him, the building was pitch black. It looked like some kind of studio or training facility, but it was hard to see.

JD heard voices from one of the rooms and approached cautiously.

“I can’t believe this. We’re meeting actual rebels. What if they’re psychopaths?” An anxious male voice was saying, and JD was pretty sure he was pacing.

Unable to resist a little fun, JD crept into the room and snuck up behind the frantic stranger, letting flames curl around his hands. “What if we are?”

“Jesus fuck!” He leapt into the air.

Gideon howled with laughter, and elbowed him. “Come on, man, you’re ruining the effect.”

“Have all of you forgotten that we’re here to commit treason?” Deka asked, though JD was fairly certain he detected a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I don’t see why that means we shouldn’t have a little fun,” Gideon said, but he had stopped laughing.

JD offered his hand to the guy he’d terrified. “I’m JD, that’s Gideon and Deka. We’re the rebels.”

Brushing himself off, the ordinary attempted dignity. “So I noticed. I’m Peter, and this is Dennis. We’re part of the OEF.”

“I’m Betty,” Betty said with a small wave. “There are some candles around, in case you don’t want to keep doing that with your hands.”

He shrugged, but focused and lit the candles, which seemed to make the ordinaries more comfortable. “Where’s Veronica?”

“Not here yet,” Betty said, chewing on her lip.

He didn’t want to let that worry him, but it did. “It’s still early,” He tried to convince Betty and himself. “She’s probably on her way.”

“Yeah,” Betty said, with an anxious smile. “I’m sure she is.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence, while the ordinaries stared at them. It was strange. JD knew that ordinaries were afraid of rebels—they’d been taught to be their whole lives—it was odd to feel their wide-eyed stares.

“So…” The braver of the two guys—Dennis—said, “What are your powers?”

“Isn’t that a rude question?” Peter said. “I thought you weren’t allowed to ask that.”

Gideon snorted. “I can block pain, and I’m strong. A little speed too, but nothing really crazy. And I love talking about it, so I don’t think it’s bad to ask.”

“Some people’s powers are private,” Deka said. “I’m a healer.” She didn’t elaborate, as if to prove her point.

JD smiled and lit his hands again. “It’s mostly this, and I have an endurance secondary.”

“Does that hurt?” Dennis asked, leaning in towards the flames and reaching as if he was going to touch it.

He pulled his hands away before anyone got burned. “They don’t hurt me, but they’ll burn anything else.”

Peter leaned over to Dennis and whispered, very audibly, “The Freefont fire?”

“Wasn’t me. My powers first showed up when I was four, but I didn’t have that kind of power or control yet when I was six.”

“When you were four?” Gideon asked, horrified. “I have younger brothers and I can’t imagine how awful a four year old with the ability to set shit on fire whenever he got angry would be.”

“You’re right,” Deka said. “You can’t imagine.”

Betty tilted her head. “Isn’t that young? I mean, I don’t know much about it but I thought powers usually started developing at about six?”

“I don’t know much about it either, but I don’t remember ever not having my powers.”

“I do,” Gideon said, “I first noticed them around six. Before I could control it, I used to just walk around bleeding, with no idea that I was even hurt. Eventually I learned how to turn it on and off.”

Everyone looked at Deka, but she didn’t offer any information about how her powers had developed. Secretly, JD was relieved; he couldn’t imagine Deka as a child.

“So, what are we going to plan here?” Dennis asked after they’d been silent for a while.

“I think –“

“Wait until Veronica gets here,” JD interrupted stubbornly. Now that there was no conversation to distract him, he was back to worrying about her.

“She’ll come,” Betty answered, equally as stubborn. “She’s fine.”

“I know.”

There was a loud commotion in the hall, and everyone jumped to their feet. JD, Gideon, and Deka—now armed with a knife JD hadn’t realized she was carrying—stood in front of the ordinaries in case of a fight.

Veronica stumbled in, breathing hard and followed by two girls. JD immediately smiled.

“Well if it isn’t the girl of my dreams,” He said, holding his hand out to Martha, who looked slightly different in the real world. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”

Martha smiled and blushed, stammering out a hello.

Veronica rolled her eyes, and JD couldn’t believe how relieved he was to see that she was okay.

Heather wasn’t relieved to see him. She pulled a gun out of Veronica’s hand and pointed it at him. “You didn’t say that the fire starter would be here!”

Veronica reached for her. “Heather, wait! Put that down; JD isn’t going to hurt you.”

“He killed my parents!” Her voice was shrill and her hands shook with rage or fear.

JD stayed still, trying hard not to burn anything, though his heart was pounding and the instinct was there. “No, I didn’t. I was just a kid when that happened, Heather. Just like you.”

“You’re lying!”

“He killed my mom, Heather. I hate him too.”

Heather’s hand wavered, and JD reluctantly shrugged his coat off, revealing the scars on his arms, which surely looked even worse in the uneven candlelight. “He did this to me.”

She lowered the gun and reached towards him, for a second JD thought she was going to touch his scars, but she pulled away at the last second. “I—I’m—“

He nodded. “I know.”

Silence fell as everyone caught their breath.

Betty recovered first, crossing the room to hug Veronica. “What took you so long? We were worried!”

“We almost got caught,” Veronica explained. “Heather saved our asses.”

“I’m just faster than them,” Heather said, and though JD could see that her face was streaked with dirt and what might have been tears, she was smiling. “I’m Heather, by the way.” She waved at the assembled group.

“Another one?” Deka asked.

“There are three,” JD explained, though it only seemed to confuse her. He realized a second later that there were only two now, but didn’t correct himself.

Veronica stepped away from Betty and crossed the room to hold his hand. “It’s good to see you.”

He nodded, squeezing her hand.

“Well, are we having a meeting or what?” Gideon said, and they gathered around to get started.

Veronica spoke first. “We need to attack Westerburg.”

“What?” Peter said, panic making his voice higher. “No one said anything about attacking anyone. I thought we were going after Gowan’s bill.”

“We can do both,” Dennis mused. “Aren’t they voting on the bill at Westerburg?”

“Yeah, but that’s only a few days from now. We don’t have time.” Betty twisted her hands.

“Not to mention Westerburg is nearly impenetrable,” Gideon pointed out. At the same time, both JD and Veronica raised their hands, and Gideon sighed. “Yeah, one or two people can slip in or out, but we couldn’t get an army in, and that’s what we would need to really disrupt this vote.”

“We also don’t have an army,” Betty pointed out. “We have nine people.”

“The rebellion—“

“I don’t trust them,” Veronica interrupted.

“I agree with Veronica,” JD said. “Something was weird today. It should have been harder for us to get in and out of there, but it was fine. I think my… I think the general is planning something. And it’s something so big that it doesn’t even matter to him if I try to fuck it up.”

“Yes… Well,” Betty hesitated, took a deep breath, and then plowed on. “I think maybe your dad is working with Gowan, or at least the rebellion is.”  


	16. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I don't want to turn the notes for this into some kind of pity party, but I do want to let you know that I've been feeling a bit down on this story and may need to take a break. I'm just not sure I'm the right person to be writing it. I used to be so enthusiastic about this, but lately it's been really hard for me to work on and some time away might help me find what I used to feel when working on this. Thank you for understanding. Enjoy!

“That’s impossible,” JD said, standing to pace. “There’s no way.” He couldn’t even articulate how insane the idea was.

Betty chewed on her lip, glancing at Veronica, who offered no help. “Well, I’ve always been a little suspicious of the rebellion. I mean, every time they do anything, the state gets stronger. Doesn’t that bother you?”

JD spluttered, unable to answer. “That doesn’t mean that he’s a part of it. He hates the sentinels; he couldn’t work with them.”

“He could if he thought it meant more power for him. Gowan could have promised that the sentinels would leave the rebels alone, or that they would have somewhere safe to hide, as long as the rebels attacked Westerburg, did something public that might speed up Gowan’s bill.”

Veronica’s eyes went wide. “Something like kidnapping and killing Heather Chandler?”

Heather and Martha gasped at her name, but Betty just nodded. “Yes. And even saying that Veronica was a spy for the rebellion could help them. A massive manhunt for two fugitives makes the sentinels look good, but also raises public fear. A scared public is a compliant public; they won’t blink twice at the government taking ten year olds and turning them into soldiers.”

Gideon made a choked, outraged noise, and JD instinctively reached to pat his back, before his thoughts spun away down the dark path Betty was leading them on. He pulled away again and started to pace, feeling the fire curl its way around his wrists.

“This timing just feels too perfect with Gowan’s bill. I think the rebellion is a part of it.”

“You’re wrong!” JD snapped, turning sharply, to face them and finding Veronica standing directly in front of him. Too late, he realized he’d lost control and two bright, hot blazes rose and vanished at her sides.

She glared at him. “Are you done?”

Her impatience and anger were enough to confuse him, which settled both his thoughts and the fire.

Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “Your dad is shitty. You already know that. Almost everyone in here has shitty parents. We also have shit to do. If Betty is right, and I think we should assume she is for now, then we don’t have much time before they vote on Gowan’s bill. If your dad is a part of it, that will only make whatever happens worse; we need to make a plan.”

After a long, deep breath, JD nodded. “So what do we do?”

Nobody raised their hand or offered a suggestion. JD looked at Deka, expecting the only adult in the room to say something, but she remained silent, watching all of them.

“We have to stop the vote,” Heather said quietly.

“An attack?” Gideon offered, though he looked a little squeamish at the idea.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “We can’t attack Westerburg; there’ll be sentinels everywhere. There are six of us.”

“Nine!” Betty corrected.

The exceptions all exchanged glances, no one wanted to say what they were thinking, but it was clear it was the same thing.

“Betty,” Veronica said, “We’re really glad you’re helping us, but… well, if this is a fight, you probably shouldn’t be there.”

“Why not?” Betty demanded. “If we get rid of the sentinels, exceptions are going to have to learn to fight for themselves. Why not start now?”

JD exchanged looks with Gideon and Deka, not sure how to explain that the middle of a battle wasn’t a good time to learn how to fight.

“That can come later,” Deka said, and any argument Betty might have had must have died in the face of Deka’s even stare. “Right now, we need a plan. The first step is getting into Westerburg. There are too many of us to climb over the walls, and the vote is during the day so we won’t be able to sneak in undetected.”

“Heather Duke would know,” Martha said, and everyone turned to look at her.

“Duke?” Deka asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Who’s Heather Duke?” Dennis said.

JD just sighed. _Another fucking Heather._

Veronica’s brows knit together as she looked at Martha. “Why would Heather know how to sneak into Westerburg?”

“She knows everything,” Martha said. “She studies Westerburg, and the history of exceptions and sentinels for fun.”

“That’s true,” McNamara added. “She’s always reading about it at night, not even for a class, just because she wanted to.” She sounded vaguely disgusted by the idea.

“And you said this girl’s name is Heather Duke?” Deka squinted at Heather and Martha, as if she thought they might be lying.

“Yes,” Veronica said. “Why, do you know her?”

“No. But JD’s mother knew her mother, I think.”

As always when his mother was mentioned, JD suddenly felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room. “What?”

“The ordinary who contacted your mother with information she’d stolen from the state was named Duke, and her daughter was an exception. That’s all I ever knew about her.”

“Heather’s mother was arrested for treason,” Veronica said breathlessly. “That’s how she ended up at Westerburg early.”

The floor was falling out from under JD’s world for the second time that night. He had never thought he would ever know anything else about what had happened to his mother. It had never occurred to him to ask about the woman who’d shared the cause she’d died for.

“I’ll go talk to her,” JD blurted.

Veronica, Deka and Gideon all turned on him, each clearly ready to argue with him, but he stood firm. “Someone has to go; it should be me, I know I can convince her to help.”

“What about getting in?” Veronica asked. “I can make myself basically invisible, it’s less of a risk for me to go.”

Veronica could also force Heather to help if she needed to, though JD doubted she would. But still, he was sure about going. “Veronica, they want you more. I was already a rebel; you were almost a sentinel. You’re a traitor and they’ll want to make an example out of you.”

His words made him sick, but something told him that Veronica wouldn’t have as much success with Heather Duke as he could, and he wanted to take the chance.

“I can do this, Veronica, you just have to trust me.”

“JD,” Deka said, “I know you never listen when I tell you not to do stupid things, but don’t do this. Don’t walk right into their hands.”

“We can’t trust Heather,” Veronica said. “She’s one of them.”

“Then why has she been studying them? Why does she want to know history that they don’t teach? What if she’s been on her own side all these years?”

“You can’t know that!” Gideon said, almost shouting. “You can’t risk dying for that!” His voice cracked.

“I…” Heather spoke up, “I think he should.” When everyone stared at her she stuck out her chin and continued. “Heather has always been a little weird. She and Heather never liked each other and I don’t think she liked being on our team. She was always reading and she hated training, and she was the only one who was happy when we found out we were getting a new teammate. No offense, Veronica.”

“None taken,” Veronica said. “Maybe I should be the one to talk to her though? She knows me.”

“She knows who I am.” JD shrugged, pretending he didn’t care, a tactic Deka clearly didn’t appreciate.

She glared daggers at him. “She knows exactly enough about you to justify killing you on sight.”

“I think he should do it,” Martha said. “Heather and I grew up together, we were friends before she went to Westerburg. I know she pretends not to know me anymore, but I knew her then. She never wanted to be a sentinel.” She hesitated for a second. “We liked to talk about running away.”

JD took a long breath, and then looked Veronica in the eye. “I can do this.”

“Let me at least go with you?” Veronica asked, reaching for his hand.

He could tell he was winning. “No, you stay here and stay safe. It’ll be easier for me to get in and out alone.”

Deka grabbed him, pulling him into a fast, harsh hug while hissing in his ear, “Don’t you dare do anything stupid.”

Pulling away, he turned to Veronica, leaning in to kiss her.

She ducked and stepped away from him. “Don’t die.”

Smiling softly, he nodded. “I promise.”

Without waiting for any more warnings or goodbyes, he left.

 

Sneaking into Westerburg was harder than before, but JD had been dodging sentinels his whole life. The grounds were crawling with them, and spotlights crisscrossed the courtyards and grassy lawns, making it hard to stay in the shadows, but JD knew what he was doing.

He had learned from his mistakes when Kurt and Ram had caught him. This time he moved slowly and carefully, avoiding anything that looked like a risk. When he came to a cluster of guards that blocked his access to the window that he planned to use as an entrance, he lit a small fire, several feet away.

Distracted and alarmed, the guards dashed off to investigate, and JD climbed into the building with little incident.

The library was quiet as JD crept around. There were no sentinels anywhere, which made him wonder why, exactly, there were all these books here. He found Heather easily, recognizing her by her red hair and the red headband she wore in it.

She turned sharply before he announced himself, raising her hand in front of her. “Don’t move; I can kill you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” JD said, putting his hands up in surrender. “You sure are surrounded by flammable books though.”

“Put your hands down. I know you don’t need them. You’re pyrokinetic; you don’t need your hands.”

JD shrugged and put his hands down. “You don’t need your hands either, Miss Telekinesis.”

Heather looked down at her outstretched hand and let it drop to her side. “What do you want?”

“To talk to you.”

“Why you?”

“What?” He’d expected her to have questions, but not that one.

“I thought Veronica would come. She snuck in and took Heather and Martha, I guess I thought eventually she’d come back for me.”

“She wanted to, but I asked to come instead.”

“And again I ask why.”

JD sighed, not really wanting to get into the whole story, but needing to establish a rapport with this girl fast. “Your mother knew my mother.”

“My mother is in prison.” Heather’s voice was flat, but her eyes flashed with anger and pain.

Though it was probable that Heather knew by now what a sentinel prison really was, JD had to say something, just in case she was holding out hope. “Then she’s dead. Mine is too.”

“You can’t know that,” Heather snapped harshly, her voice hoarse.

Closing his eyes, JD tried to forget the faces of the rebels he’d seen returning from the infamous prison mission. “The rebels once broke into a sentinel prison to rescue some of our own. The prisons… they’re empty, Heather. No one comes out of them. I’m sorry.”

For a second, JD thought Heather would cry, but an expression like ice crossed her face before any tears could fall. “I should have known. She was a traitor.”

JD winced at the choice of words, but he heard the waver in Heather’s voice and pressed. “That’s what the general said about my mother, because she was working with an ordinary.”

“My mother worked in city hall. She stole things and gave them to the rebellion to help them, because she didn’t want me to have to be a sentinel.”

“Do you want to follow in her footsteps?”

There was a long moment of silence, and JD watched fear and fury battle on Heather’s face.

When she looked up at him, he saw that fury won.

“What do you need?”

* * *

At the warehouse, Veronica paced.

“He’ll be back,” Martha whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I know,” Veronica said, nodding like she believed it. She continued pacing, forcing herself to stay away from the windows, though she was desperate to look out, hoping she would see JD in the distance.

“Are you all trained?” Deka asked.

Heather bristled. “Of course! I’ve been training since I was six; I’m a sentinel.”

“Then show me what you can do.”

Standing up, Deka pulled something off of her back, flicking her wrist to reveal a collapsible staff as long as she was tall. Heather rushed her before Deka had time to get into ready position.

Heather’s speed gave her an advantage, and Veronica expected Deka to get hit, but she swung her staff and landed a sharp blow against Heather’s chest. Martha stepped back and away from the chaos, but Veronica leaned in closer, wanting to help but unsure of what side to take.

Gideon came up behind her and tapped her shoulder. Veronica turned, expecting him to have a question or comment about the fight. Instead, his fist was coming straight towards her face.

She ducked, stepping around him to land a kick on the base of his spine. Gideon staggered forward, but didn’t fall.

Veronica took a step back, raising her fists into a defensive position. “You sure can take a hit.”

He smiled. “I don’t feel pain.”

“That’s cheating.”

Lunging towards her, Gideon seized a handful of Veronica’s jacket and raised his hand in a strike that would send her halfway across the room.

Bracing herself for the blow, Veronica closed her eyes.

Flames curled around Gideon’s legs and feet, and from the doorway, JD shouted, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Gideon stopped in the middle of his swing, releasing his fist and letting her fall to the ground. “I’m sor—“

Veronica swung her leg around, knocking Gideon’s legs out from under him and bringing him to the ground.

When she was standing over him with a foot resting on his throat, she smiled. “It wasn’t real.”

“I think that’s cheating too.”

Removing her foot, Veronica reached down and helped him up, turning to watch Heather McNamara take another hit from Deka’s staff.

“You only use your powers. Strength and speed are good, but I have neither and I am winning.”

“You have to have,” Heather panted, “Something. How are you doing this?”

Deka swung the staff again, this time sweeping Heather’s legs out from under her so she landed on her back. “Skill.”

Heather stood, recovering her breath. “Can you teach me?”

Drawing back, Deka collapsed her staff and slung it back over her shoulder. “Yes.”

_At least training with Deka is distracting,_ Veronica thought as she landed flat on her back for the tenth time in as many minutes. She had barely been able to think about JD or Heather Duke since the impromptau training had started; she’d been too busy dodging blows and trying to fight back.

Betty sat back with the other ordinaries, just watching and eating the snacks Peter had brought along. “You know, it’s surprising that the rebellion hasn’t been more successful with fighters like this.”

“I don’t fight for the rebellion,” Deka explained, stepping back from the fight so Heather and Veronica could breathe. “I heal their fighters, but I don’t trust the general, and I won’t spill my blood for him.”

There was a loud thud from outside, and Veronica leapt to her feet to stand at the ready with Gideon, Deka, and Heather. Behind them, Martha stood up in front of the ordinaries.

Veronica hoped they wouldn’t have to fight.

But JD burst into the room, relaxing them all, even as a slightly bedraggled Heather Duke trailed behind him.

“You brought her here?” Veronica hissed, shocked.

“She’s not one of them,” JD insisted. “She wants to help, and more importantly, she _can_ help. Tell them what you told me.”

Heather shuffled awkwardly. “I understand why you don’t trust me Veronica.”

“Of course I don’t trust you,” Veronica spat. “You’ve done nothing but tell me to fall in line since I got to Westerburg.”

“No, I didn’t,” Heather answered calmly. “I asked you to trust me; those things are different.”

“You didn’t give me a good reason to trust you.” Veronica’s voice sounded petulant, even to her.

“I didn’t tell anyone about you sneaking out at night, even when you lied about fucking a rebel,” Heather said, rolling her eyes slightly.

Gideon coughed awkwardly, and Veronica felt Heather shuffle next to her, both of them uncomfortable with Duke’s words.

“I’m not—“ Veronica hesitated, realized that technically, she had fucked JD. “I wasn’t—“

“Is this relevant?” Deka said, and Veronica stopped trying to speak, grateful for the interruption.

“No,” Heather said. “I just… Veronica, I promise you can trust me.”

“I can’t believe you were sneaking out,” McNamara said in awe. “How’d you get out? How’d you get back in?”

“I climbed out the window and over the wall. There’s an invisible barrier, but it has a weakness. Honestly, Westerburg isn’t as safe as they made it sound.”

“But it’s hard to get in and out with more than one or two people, something you all found out the other night. And they’ve increased security since you escaped.”

“Sometimes I swear we’re making everything worse,” JD muttered, coming to stand next to Veronica. She just nodded and reached out to hold his hand. It felt odd to do so in front of all these people, but she needed the comfort and stability.

“Let’s sit down, then Heather can tell us what she knows,” Betty said, her voice slightly unsteady. Veronica was just glad someone else was taking charge.

Because they were in a dance studio, there was no furniture, so they all ended up sitting in a circle on the floor. Veronica stayed close to JD, but she noticed that they had naturally grouped themselves based on affiliation, with spaces between the ordinaries, sentinels, and rebels.

Only JD and Veronica were close enough to touch, and she doubted she had ever really counted as a sentinel.

“What most people don’t know about Westerburg is that it was designed by an exception, Soren Hess. He had increased spatial awareness, but no other significant powers.

“He was able to convince the state that he wasn’t a threat, and they said he didn’t have to serve the sentinels if he did one thing for the; design the perfect school.”

“But it isn’t perfect,” Veronica said. “We got in and out of it pretty easily.”

Heather sighed. “Yes, I was getting to that. I don’t think Hess really wanted it to be perfect. He didn’t like the sentinels, and even though he didn’t do anything to free anyone else, I think he may have intentionally left security gaps that could be exploited, maybe for the rebels, or maybe just in case some students wanted to escape.”

Martha raised her hand. “But, you said they increased security, so those gaps are closed now, right?”

Heather nodded. “Some of them are, but there’s one that I don’t think they know about. It took me years to find it, and I was terrified I would graduate before I did. It was lucky that Gowan held us all back, otherwise I might never have found it.”

“Found what?” Veronica said, leaning in despite herself.

“A tunnel!” JD said, practically squealing with glee. “There’s a secret tunnel under Westerburg that’s not on any plans or maps, and Heather found it!”

Heather rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. “Like I said, it took years. But we can use it to get into Westerburg to stop the vote.”

“So we have a way in,” Deka said, her voice level. She appeared to hold none of the enthusiasm the younger people had. “What do we do once we get in there? Ten people can be killed very quickly.”

That brought the mood down.

“We just need to stop the vote,” JD said. “Nothing else matters.”

Gideon sighed audibly and laid his head on JD’s shoulder. JD reached out and held Veronica’s hand, while rubbing his friend’s back gently.

“What about after? There’ll always be another vote, another thing we need to fight.” Heather didn’t seem to be arguing with JD, just posing a question.

“And there will always be someone else to fight,” Veronica replied.

“What if—“ Martha’s voice was shaking, “What if I want to be one of the ones to fight the next battle? What if I want to survive this one?”

“Then you may have picked the wrong battle,” Veronica said softly, with a note of bitterness she didn’t bother to disguise.

JD shifted, sitting up. “What if they joined the fight?”

“What?” Nine confused faces stared back at JD.

“I mean, what if they people who would take up the next fight joined this one?”

“Who would that be?” Betty asked.

“Sentinel trainees, sentinels that hate their job. Anyone with a bone to pick with the state might decide to join us, if we asked them the right way.”

Veronica didn’t like where this was heading. “No, JD. I won’t do it.”

“I’m not saying to use your powers, Veronica. You don’t have to lie to them, just tell them the truth the right way and they’ll want to join us.” JD squeezed her hand, but she pulled away.

“I can’t.”

“You know you can.” JD whispered. Everyone was staring at them, baffled, but Veronica kept her attention on JD.

“I…” She thought about it. Finally allowing herself to think of what might happen if she found the right words. If she walked on the line between swaying opinions and controlling minds, she could lead the fight that would end the state. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Betty said, “But there’s still another problem.”

“What’s that?” Veronica said, jumping on the change in topic.

“The rebellion.”

Veronica felt JD stiffen. “What about them?”

“They’ll be at the vote. I’m sure of it.” Betty shifted nervously.

“How do you know?” Gideon sat up, leaning towards Betty.

She looked away. “There usually attacks on days involving major political events. Holidays, votes, hell, the Freefont Fire took place on an election day that was supposed to be a big historical shift.”

Heather Duke took over, glancing at JD. “A major attack would put Gowan’s bill immediately into motion. There would be more trainees, and a bigger army of sentinels, as a bunch of trainees would graduate to full sentinel to accommodate all the new people.”

“Oh my god,” Veronica whispered.

“So we have to fight the rebels and the sentinels? At the same time?” Gideon let out a long breath.

“We’ll destroy them both at the same time,” Veronica answered. The thought of all that was riding on this changed something in her. She felt her power curling in her stomach and rising up her throat, ready for her to wield it.

And wield it she would.

“We can’t do this,” Martha whimpered.

Veronica glared back at her, and locked eyes with each person in the circle. “It doesn’t matter whether or not we can; we have to.”

She looked away towards the window and saw that gray light was starting to filter into the room. Another day gone, and they were one step closer to voting day.

The others stood up, sensing that they’d reached the only conclusion they would be able to come to.

Exhausted, Veronica stayed on the ground, and JD stayed with her.

“We’re really going to do this,” She whispered, somewhat in awe of their collective bravery and stupidity.

JD stood up and smiled at her. He reached down to help her up. “Our love is god; let’s destroy the government.”


	17. Drink With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me. I'm very excited to be working on this again! Enjoy!

“He said he loved you,” Betty pointed out, stumbling as she attempted to throw a punch at Veronica.

She dodged, spinning away to grab Betty’s arm and pull it behind her back, ending the fight. “He said ‘Our love is god’, that’s different.”

“What does that mean, anyway?” Betty stepped out of Veronica’s gripped and faced her friend, assuming her fighting stance again.

“I have no idea. Adjust your feet, your stance is too wide.”

They’d been focusing on training the ordinaries, starting at dawn the day after Veronica’s big speech. JD had employed his uncanny skill for finding abandoned buildings, and Betty, Peter, and Dennis had been sneaking in to train in whatever the various exceptions could teach them.

Though hand-to-hand wasn’t Veronica’s strongest suit, it was a good way to get Betty alone so they could talk, something Veronica had missed desperately in the since she’d gone away, which felt like years.

She wasn’t even sure she could remember living with her parents and going to school with ordinaries.

Betty had caught her breath and adjusted her stance, and looked ready to mount another attack, and with it another line of questions about JD.

“What I don’t understand is how all this started. How did you even meet a rebel in the first place?”

Veronica seized the opportunity that Betty’s distraction opened, and tripped her up before she could throw a punch.

Frustrated, Betty flopped to the ground. “I’m hopeless. When can I go back to weapons training?”

“You only like that because it’s theoretical.” Veronica said, sitting next to Betty. They hadn’t yet managed to acquire much in the way of weapons, and though Deka and JD were trying to teach the ordinaries how to aim and fire, this was difficult when they had no way to practice.

“I also think it’s easier,” Betty admitted, whipping sweat off her brow with her sleeve. “If I had to kill someone, I mean, it would be easier to do it with a gun from far away.”

Veronica thought back to shooting Kurt and Ram, something she’d done instinctively and impulsively. Could she have done it if she’d needed to snap their necks? Or beat them until they died?

_Yes._

The answer came from somewhere deep within her, crawling up through her limbs until it settled, sure and solemn in her mind. She could kill someone— bloody and close and personal— if she had to.

Perhaps that was how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place, the same dark place that answer had come from was pushing her towards a final confrontation with the state.

Maybe she was a rebel after all.

“Veronica,” Betty said, “Do you think I could do it, if I had to?”

Lost in her thoughts, Veronica had forgotten what they’d been talking about. “Do what?”

Betty cleared her throat awkwardly, like the words were stuck there. “Kill someone.”

“Yes,” Veronica answered simply. “I think anyone can, under the right circumstances.”

“They said you killed two sentinels.”

“I did.”

“What was it like?”

Veronica just shrugged. “I don’t know; it happened really fast. In an instant I knew that I had to kill them if I wanted to get out of there alive with JD, so I did.” She left out how freaked out she’d been afterwards. Betty didn’t need to know that.

“I guess I’ll find out,” Betty sighed.

The battle was fast approaching, and they were all beginning to feel heavy with the understanding that it might be less of a fight and more of a last stand.

“You don’t have to,” Veronica said.

Betty glared at her, an expression that didn’t sit well on her usually pleasant face. “Not this again, Veronica. I told you, I’m going and you can’t change my mind.”

“But what if you have to kill someone and you realize you can’t? What then, Betty?”

“Ten seconds ago you said you thought everyone was capable of it, which is it, Veronica?” Betty crossed her arms.

Veronica sighed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You don’t want JD to get hurt either, but you aren’t trying to stop him from going to the fight.”

“Only because I know I can’t!” Was it so wrong of her to want to save just one of her friends?

Betty touched her arm in an ineffectual comforting gesture. “It’s okay. We’re going to be alright.”

It would have been nice to believe her, but Veronica didn’t. Their plan was flimsy bordering on desperate and though she wanted Betty’s endless optimism, she was stuck in her own mind.

“Hey, Veronica.” JD poked his head into the room where Veronica and Betty had been training. “How are things going?”

It was a relief not to have to come up with something to say to Betty. “We got tired. How about you?”

JD had taken over training Dennis and Peter while Veronica dealt with Betty—mostly an excuse for them to catch up—and Deka worked with Heather, Heather, Gideon, and occasionally Veronica.

His expression said that things weren’t going well. “It’s fine. They’re getting better.”

Getting better meant very little. Veronica had seen Dennis and Peter fight, and she knew there was little hope for them in a battle. Secretly, Veronica thought the same of Betty but she couldn’t say it.

Betty, at least, had a level of determination that would carry her for a little while, but Peter and Dennis were weaker. It chilled Veronica to think that they wouldn’t last ten minutes, but the truth hung over her head anyway.

A part of her wondered if that might be preferable. She would survive much of the battle.

She would live to see them lose.

“Veronica?”

Shaking her head, Veronica looked up at JD. She could tell he’d asked her a question, but she’d been too lost in her grim thoughts to hear it. “What?”

“It’s getting dark out. Peter went to get some food, I was wondering if you two were ready to stop for the day?”

“No!” Betty’s trembling voice startled them both. More calmly, she added, “I’m not quite ready. Veronica, I wanted to go over my stance again.”

“You’re doing fine,” Veronica attempted to assure her. “We can work on it more tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow is the last day.” Tears shone in her eyes, though Veronica could see her fighting to keep them from falling. “It can’t be the last day yet.”

“It won’t be the last anything,” JD said. “Take a break, you look like you need it. Maybe you can go over more after dinner, or we can talk about weapons.”

Discreetly wiping her eyes, Betty nodded. “Right, yeah.”

Veronica locked eyes with JD and they shared a loaded look where Veronica saw right through his confidence. _I’m sorry,_ It said, _I’m sorry we have to keep telling this lie._

She took hold of his hand and they walked out together. She wasn’t sure if her hand was shaking or his.

“So, since Veronica never told me, JD how did you and Veronica meet?” Betty asked.

“She saved my life.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“He was trying to burn down Westerburg, I was trying to make a run for it.”

“It was meant to be,” Betty said, with a little sarcasm.

JD and Veronica exchanged an awkward glance, blushing.

Deka was watching them from across the room, her face showing an unhidden horror. On Deka’s face, the expression was horrifying for its strangeness. Veronica had never thought she’d see her scared.

By the time they arrived to join her, she had masked the expression, but Veronica still felt unsettled, like if she closed her eyes she would see it again.

Heather, on the other hand, seemed perfectly in her element. Veronica knew training had always been—in Heather’s mind at least—her greatest strength. Though her teacher was a rebel now, and her targets were her former teachers, little else had changed.

She had just finished a sparring match with Deka, which she had lost, but it was clear that her skills had improved. Heather wiped her brow and pulled her hair off her shoulders, beaming. “How was that?”

Deka nodded. “You’re becoming less dependent on you abilities. Trust yourself. Heather, you’re next.”

From across the room, Heather lifted her head out of the one book she’d brought from Westerburg. Carefully marking her place—though Veronica knew she’d read through it multiple times already—she stood up.

This match was different than the many times Veronica had seen Deka go up against Heather McNamara. Fighting a telekinetic was always different, but there was something intense and lethal about the way Heather and Deka circled each other.

 _One of them is the smartest person here,_ Veronica thought. _And they’re trying to determine which one._

Forgetting all thoughts of obtaining food, JD, Veronica, and Betty stood back to watch the fight. Gideon joined them, standing at JD’s side.

Deka’s hand jerked back, flying at an odd angle away from her body. At the same time, her other arm darted forward, catching Heather on the side of her face.

“Don’t look at what you’re going to move! Keep your eyes on mine,” Deka snapped. She reached forward for another hit, which Heather ducked neatly.

This time, Deka’s leg flew out from under her, and she landed on her knee, rolling neatly until she was back on her feet, smiling. “That was good.”

Releasing the catch on her staff, she swung it, attempting to sweep Heather’s feet out from under her. The staff switched directions and flew across the room. Heather smiled, stepping around Deka to kick her. It barely glanced off Deka’s back, but Veronica was proud of Heather for landing a hit.

They exchanged a few more blows, each one moving and blocking hits so fast Veronica would have believed that they were reading each other’s minds.

The fight stopped when the door swung open and Peter returned carrying food. Everyone gathered around, sharing knowledge and any funny stories they’d come up with during the day.

Meals had kept the same structure since they’d started the training regime, but they’d gradually become tenser. Tonight was the same. They still laughed, but there was a shrill edge. They still told stories, but many of them fell flat.

Unable to bear it, Veronica started tossing up illusions just to distract everyone. If nothing else, it gave them an excuse to stop trying to force conversation.

After dinner was lights out. Sometimes Peter, Dennis, and Betty would go home, trying to pretend they were still a part of their former lives, but as voting day had grown closer, that too had stopped.

They had chosen their side, and soon it wouldn’t matter how hard they’d tried to hide it.

It was dark enough that they had to be careful of any and all light in their hideout—some kind of abandoned storage facility that was riddled with maze-like rooms—so they tried to sleep as soon as night fell. They’d settled in two or three of them, but Veronica could feel the huge building expanding out around them, keeping them safe or hiding their enemies.

Sleep wouldn’t come easily, so Veronica went to JD, pulling him into the other room.

“Are you okay?” He asked, resting his forehead on hers.

She nodded. “Betty had a point about not wanting this day to be over.”

“It wasn’t enough time,” JD breathed. Veronica barely heard him, but she felt the words—and the hopelessness they conveyed—in her soul.

“This was so much easier when it was just us.” Just two kids on a rooftop forgetting who they were. “We could have run.”

JD pulled her close and rested his chin on top of her head, holding her fiercely. “We were never going to run.”

Perhaps they had joked about it, or thought about it separately, but together, they had never considered the idea of running away from the state and abandoning their friends.

“I wish I could run away with you and just not care,” Veronica said. “I used to not care.”

He kissed her, and it held all the desperation she was trying to keep in. “You always cared, Veronica. We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

“What do you think happens?” Veronica asked when they pulled away.

“What?” JD was attempting to discreetly wipe his eyes.

“When we die. What do you think happens when we die?”

JD leaned against the wall, sliding down it until he was sitting on the ground with his head in his hands. “Some people believe there’s something better.”

“Do you?”

“I want to.”

“Me too.” Veronica sat with him and put her head on his shoulder. “We have another day, maybe…” She didn’t finish. Even maybe was becoming hard to fathom.

She curled into his side, knowing that they would have to split apart eventually, but not ready to give up what might be one of the last honest moments of her life.

The next day, she knew she would wake up and begin to lie again. Not the kind of lying that people couldn’t help believing—though the growing desperation of her friends made that tempting—but the kind that bolstered spirits. She would continue to pretend that she believed they could do what they were trying to do.

“We should sleep,” JD said. He didn’t pull away from her.

“I don’t want to waste time,” She whispered back. “We don’t—“

“Don’t say it.”

She nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He kissed her, and when he pulled away, she tangled her hands in his hair, keeping her grip to make it last just one second longer.

“Tomorrow,” He whispered, kissing her once more on her head and returning to the other room, where he settled in to sleep with his back against the wall.

Veronica attempted to get comfortable on the rough concrete floor.

Later, still struggling to find sleep, Veronica heard one of the girls crying. She had no words of reassurance left, so she didn’t even try to find out who it was.

* * *

 

The next morning they rose early, ate what was left of the food and set to work. It was time to plan.

“Do we think it’s safe to assume that the rebellion doesn’t know about the tunnel?” Heather asked. “It’s been there for as long as Westerburg has been operating out of this building, so there’s a chance—“

“I doubt it,” JD said. “If the general knew about a secret tunnel that could get him into Westerburg, he would have used it by now.”

“How do we know he didn’t?” Heather said. “We don’t know for sure how he got out of Westerburg when he ran away, or how he got in and out when he took Heather. We’ve been assuming that he used the same security flaw you did, JD, but that may not be true.”

It had never occurred to him to think that the general hadn’t followed him through the hole in the fence, or to wonder how his parents had broken out of Westerburg in the first place.

“If he’s there, then we’ll have to fight him.” JD said it casually, hoping no one would notice that his hands were shaking just thinking about it.

The memory of the last time he’d tried to fight his father was a bitter memory, still fresh in his mind. He glanced at Veronica, as if to assure himself that she was still there, that she had survived despite his pathetic inability to act.

Heather snorted. “I swear I heard someone say something once about fighting fire with fire, but I can’t quite remember how it went.”

“Badly,” Deka supplied.

JD glared at them both. “Doesn’t matter. What choice do we have?” He looked at Veronica for help.

“Well… We should be prepared for that—“

“How?” Gideon interrupted. He turned to JD. “I don’t want to say this, but—“

“Then don’t.” JD’s bitter mutterings were barely audible, and they didn’t stop Gideon.

“But I don’t know if we can fight him. JD… I saw what happened—“

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice was deadly, and flames had begun curling around his fingers. He didn’t need a reminder of yet another time he had failed to fight his father.

Veronica put a hand on his elbow. “JD, he has a point. Your—The general is something else, and if we think he’s going to be there, then we need to make a plan for that. It changes things.”

“Does that mean we have to split up?” Heather McNamara raised her hand.

JD’s stomach dropped and his eyes shot to meet Veronica’s. They hadn’t told the others about her power.

No matter how they split the groups up, it was essential that Veronica made it to the courtyard where the vote would take place, and they would have to find a way to explain that without telling everyone the real plan. Veronica was already reluctant to use her powers in any way, and even one negative reaction from her friends might make her abandon the plan completely.

If that happened, JD knew they would be done for. Veronica’s ability was the only thing that gave him any hope.

“It would be safest to split up,” Deka said.

“We need weapons,” Veronica said. “If we could get ahold of some guns, we could give them to the—to you three.” She gestured to Betty, Peter, and Dennis.

“You could provide cover from the roof where I staged my attack on Veronica’s first day. You’d never have to be in the battle at all,” JD suggested.

The looks of relief and hope on the ordinaries’ faces were instant, but Betty’s clouded quickly with guilt. “We should be—“

“You should be where you can be the most useful,” Deka said decisively.

Heather McNamara raised her hand again. “If we sneak in through the basement, we could go through the weapons room on the way to the courtyard.”

“The place will be crawling with sentinels.”

“Just trainees,” Heather said. “We may even find some people sympathetic to our cause.”

“Or we might get killed immediately.” Heather Duke stared at her. “We’re wanted by the state, Heather.”

“I could get a couple people in there, but disguising more than one or two people is too complicated.” Veronica looked at JD, and he could see her concerns were the same as his. Could she go with them, or should she do whatever was necessary to get to the courtyard?

Heather picked up her book and started flipping through it, JD leaned over to see what was on the pages, and saw small notations and vague architectural designs before Heather pulled the book away.

Everyone watched her for a minute, until her head jerked up. She had a slightly manic smile on her face. “There’s a storage room in the basement.”

“So? Isn’t that pretty standard for basements?” Gideon said, unimpressed.

Heather glared at him. “Weapons! The storage room will have weapons!”

“How can you be sure?” Deka leaned over Gideon to look at the book.

“Westerburg doesn’t have much else to store,” Heather said with a shrug. “And there are gun racks built into the walls, see Hess marked them here. I think we could avoid passing through the main school and still get weapons.”

“But then how do we get them to the ordinaries?” Heather said. “If they aren’t coming to the school with us?”

“You could run them,” Deka suggested. “You’re fast enough, correct?”

Heather’s eyes lit up. “I can be.”

Veronica looked at JD again. “Maybe I should sneak over the wall—“

“What, on your own?” Betty sounded horrified.

“Yeah, Veronica, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Martha rarely spoke in these meetings and when she did everyone fell silent to hear what she had to say. “No one should go alone.”

“I can hide myself.”

JD felt Deka’s eyes on him, and he tried not to look at her. _She knows._

He was expecting Deka to speak up, to point out that it was odd that JD wasn’t demanding that Veronica not go alone—which he wanted to, but knew he couldn’t—but she said nothing. Her eyes stayed locked on his, and he kept his gaze fixed away from her.

Heather shook her head. “Martha is right; no one goes alone. But splitting up might be smart. That way, if something happens…” She hesitated for a second before plowing on, “If something happens, there will be people to follow through.”

“How do we decide who goes where?” Gideon looked around, locking eyes with JD.

“I want to take the tunnel,” Heather said. “I’ve read about it for so long, I need to see it for myself.”

“I should take the tunnel too.” JD didn’t want to, because he knew it would separate him from Veronica, but he couldn’t risk Heather or any of the others facing his father without him there.

“I have to run the weapons, so I have to go with you.” Heather seemed neither sad nor happy about this, merely resigned.

Veronica looked at JD, a sad smile on her face. “I’ll take the wall.”

“I’ll go with you,” Gideon said. “Spread out the muscle a little bit.”

“Don’t assume I’m weak,” Veronica said, a daring smile on her face.

“Trust me, I don’t.”

Martha was chewing her lip and looking around the circle. “I don’t know where to go.”

Everyone exchanged uncomfortable glances. Martha was no fighter, and her power—while certainly valuable—wasn’t useful in battle. Though Deka had been training her, she hadn’t improved much.

“You should come with us,” Betty offered.

“Do you have a secondary?” JD asked at the same time.

“I’m unnoticeable,” Martha answered.

Betty reached out and put a hand on Martha’s shoulder. “Don’t say that!”

“No, that’s my secondary. I’m unnoticeable,” Martha corrected her awkwardly.

“Like being invisible?” JD asked. It was an extremely rare ability, but JD had heard of exceptions that could make themselves temporarily invisible. Rumor had it that the state killed them when they appeared because they were impossible to keep from running away.

Martha shook her head quickly. “No. I can’t totally disappear, but if I want to I can… go away, kind of. People won’t see me unless I do something really noticeable. I could sit next to someone for an hour and they wouldn’t realize I was there unless they were looking for me, or I got their attention.”

“Can you share it with other people?” JD asked. If Martha could make people unnoticeable, and Veronica could put illusions over them, both groups could be protected when they split up.

Sadly, Martha shook her head. “I’ve tried but… It’s just me.”

“That’s alright,” Betty said.

“I think she should stay with the ordinaries,” Deka said, her voice low and decisive. At every turn she had kept herself on an equal plane with the others, never acting like the only adult in a group of kids, but JD was grateful for her finally taking a stand. It was one less thing for him or Veronica to be responsible for.

Martha looked simultaneously relieved and upset. “I can… I’m an exception.”

“Of course you are, Martha,” Veronica said. “But you can’t dream anyone to death in a battle. Stay with them and shoot people when you can.”

“So it’s settled?” Gideon’s brows were pulled together, and his eyes darted from face to face like he was searching for reassurance but finding none.

No one answered. Everyone in the circle understood that it was as settled as it could be.

Whether they liked it or not, whether their plan was good or not, tomorrow, the politicians would vote, the rebels would attack, the sentinels would fight them, and the ten people in this room would try to stop all of them.

* * *

 

The day passed in a blur. Everything moved to fast as they struggled to cram in the last bits of training that would hopefully make the difference between life and death for them.

When the sun began to set they stopped. Peter came back with food, a surprising smile on his face.

“Look what I got!” He held out a large, dark brown bottle for their inspection.

“Alcohol?” Heather asked, reaching out to read the bottle’s label.

Peter frowned, confused. “It’s whiskey. I thought, since it’s…”

“Exceptions aren’t allowed to drink,” Veronica explained. “We’re property of the state, we can’t damage our bodies in any way.” She would have thought that someone who worked with an organization that was trying to help exceptions would have a passing knowledge of the many laws that controlled them.

JD approached and stood behind Veronica, placing a comfortable hand on her back. “I’ve never had any either. Some people in the rebellion drink, but it’s frowned upon.” He took the bottle and opened it, sniffing it.

Veronica smelled it too, the sweet, sharp smell stinging her nose.

Deka shook her head, smiling. “Not until you’ve eaten, and not too much!”

Her almost maternal tone was so unusual that Veronica laughed. Together, she and Peter began to set up the food he’d brought and everyone gathered around to help or get in the way until they were all happily settled in a circle.

They started to pass the bottle around as the food and the light got low and their mood got low and turned somber.

“I never thought I would be here,” Peter said. “Drinking with a bunch of rebels.”

“I’m not a rebel,” Heather said, slurring slightly and tossing her hair.

“Yes you are,” Heather corrected her; she’d had very little to drink. “Anyone who goes against the state, so you’re a rebel even if you’re not with the rebellion.”

“I can’t believe I’m against the rebellion,” JD said. “It was my whole life.”

Veronica put her hand over his, squeezing gently. It was nice, stabilizing, to be holding him.

“This is all Veronica’s fault,” Heather said. “If she hadn’t…” She looked between Veronica and JD, searching for the words.

“I’m glad she did.” JD’s voice was low, meant only for Veronica.

She leaned into his shoulder, wishing they were alone so she could tell him what she was thinking, just in case she died tomorrow. She settled for squeezing his hand again, hoping he knew without words.

“Gross,” Heather said, watching them. She took the bottle and drank this time, rather than passing it along as she had been doing.

Veronica took the bottle from her and drank. “I did what I had to.”

Perhaps there had been a choice she could have made that would have gotten her off of this path, but all of them would have led her away from JD, and looking back, she wouldn’t choose any differently.

“I did it for my brother,” Gideon said. “If the vote goes through… He’s ten. He’ll be one of the first.” His voice cut off, choked.

“I had a brother,” Heather said. “He died in the fire.”

Gideon put his arm around Heather’s shoulders in a quiet moment of shared grief. Veronica looked away, unable to share in it.

Her eyes settled on Deka’s stoic, dark features. Veronica admired the way Deka hid her feelings, and wished she could do the same. She was sure everyone in the circle could see her pain and fear all over her face.

“It’s getting dark,” Dennis said. “Should we—“

“No.” Sparks illuminated the center of the circle; a small, peaceful fire grew up from them, perfectly controlled. “Let’s stay a little longer.”

Veronica knew she should be afraid of discovery— if someone happened to see the light they would be captured—but she was desperate for this day to be a few minutes longer. “Please.”

There was a long silence as they watched the flames, each one lost in thoughts, memories, and fears.

Martha’s eyes glittered in the firelight. “I don’t want to die.”

Everyone stared at her, and the room was suddenly cold. She had said the word they were avoiding. The one they feared the most.

“Neither do I,” Heather said.

“I’d rather die than be a sentinel.” Heather’s eyes flashed bright as the fire in front of her. “If I die tomorrow, I’m going to take some of them with me.”

Veronica nodded. “Gowan will die before I do.”

“And Fleming,” Martha agreed, wiping a tear from her face.

JD nodded. “And… My dad.”

There were a couple of surprised glances. Betty had told the others that JD’s father ran the rebellion, but he hadn’t mentioned it. Veronica watched them react to his admission.

“We will make it impossible for them to go on without change,” Deka said. It did not mean that they would survive, but it was comforting nonetheless.

“Thank you all,” Veronica whispered. She didn’t know how to express that she was glad to share the fight with them, glad that she wasn’t alone, but she hoped they understood.

They drank and shared stories, pulling closer to each other and the flames as the night went on, until they slowly fell asleep one by one on each other’s shoulders.

JD and Veronica were the last ones left awake. He snuffed the flames with a flick of his hand.

Shocked at the sudden darkness, Veronica reached for him, wildly expecting him to have disappeared, but he was there, solid against her hands when she found him.

He pulled her close and held her. “Stay with me.”

She nodded. “I don’t want to be alone.” _On my last night._

_Our last night._

JD pressed his face into her hair, and she wondered if she imagined the slight dampness. “I’m sorry. I dragged you into all this—“

“I was already in it,” She whispered, mirroring the words he’d told her so long ago. “It’s my fight too.”

“It’s ours.”

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, Veronica found herself sitting on a rooftop with JD, and underneath them, instead of the city, there was a vast lake reflecting moonlight. The sun would never rise on that lake, and in her dream, Veronica didn’t know that morning would come.

But it did.

She woke JD as cold gray light was seeping through the boards over the windows. “It’s time.”


	18. The Battle Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, my life right now is super busy, sorry this is a little later than I wanted it to be. I'd love to hear your thoughts about it though, comments really motivate me to keep going, especially when things are hard. Warning for small, rating appropriate levels of gore in this (and probably the next) chapter. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

It was freezing. JD pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders, but it did little to warm the ache in his bones.

He was used to being cold—he was always cold—but this was different. This was cold and dread and fear wrapped up and settling into his bones like an ache.

Veronica leaned into his side, and he put one arm around her, holding her there and trying to borrow some of her warmth.

 _Lie to me,_ He wanted to say to her. _Tell me everything will be fine. Make me believe you._

To ask her to do that would be betrayal, so he didn’t do it, but he wished he could convince her to give him the solace he needed.

She looked up at him, and he dared to meet her eyes for a second. For a moment, he flashed back to the rooftop and looking into her eyes.

 _Is it too late to run? We have everyone we need, we could take to the wilderness._ Thinking about it, JD was sure they could survive. They had fighters, thinkers, and many who were both. The ordinaries knew enough about politics to set up a system of government.

It could work.

As they walked through the streets, JD let himself imagine it. The fleeting feeling of hope kept him moving towards Westerburg when everything in him was screaming to grab Veronica and run. The others would follow and they would be free.

Veronica didn’t seem to be thinking of any of the same things. She stared straight ahead, her eyes fierce and empty. Whatever she was thinking, she didn’t want him or any of the others to know about it.

Was it an illusion? A disguise cast over her face so no one would see her fear?

JD twined his fingers through hers. It was a juvenile gesture, but one that offered him some small comfort. She squeezed his hand lightly but didn’t look at him.

“We’re here,” Heather said, breaking the chilly silence they’d maintained since leaving their hideout. She gestured to a small door, barely visible under a metal grate.

JD stared at the entrance to the tunnel, his stomach feeling heavy and sick. This was it.

Before he had a chance to think about it, he turned and kissed Veronica fiercely. “Veronica—“

“Don’t.” She cut him off sharply. “I’ll see you when this is over.”

She turned and paced away.

Betty stepped forward and patted his shoulder. “She hates goodbyes. When she left for Westerburg, she never said goodbye to me.”

He nodded, too choked and confused to speak.

Shaking his hand once, Betty walked away to join the rooftop group.

Gideon embraced him, holding on tight for half a second before he let go. JD barely had the chance to grip him back. They locked eyes, and JD wished he could have found something to say, but nothing came to mind.

He nodded once, wishing that could somehow encompass everything he wanted to say.

“I’m glad we were friends,” JD said, pushing the words out before he lost his chance forever.

Gideon nodded. “Me too. Good luck.”

“You too.”

He locked eyes with Deka, glad that at least he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her. She was coming with him.

JD dropped down first, lighting his hand to see in the blackness in the tunnel. Heather McNamara dropped down after him, landing quietly on her feet.

Deka followed her and Heather Duke brought up the rear. She stopped when she landed, and JD could see her straining her eyes to see the tunnel.

“All this reading, and I think I didn’t believe it was real until this moment.”

Deka pushed forward, nearly disappearing into the darkness ahead. “We don’t have time.”

The others followed her somberly. At some point during the walk, Heather’s hand slipped into the one JD wasn’t using as a light source.

He wasn’t sure if it should have felt strange, but it didn’t in this moment. JD would never have thought that at any point in his life it would be comforting to walk hand-in-hand with a sentinel, but it was.

The walk felt miles long and yet it was over in an instant. The hit a wall, and the only way to go was up.

Up into the basement.

Up into Westerburg.

Up towards the battle.

“Do you think they’ve had time?” JD asked, his voice echoing oddly in the narrow space.

There was no way of knowing whether or not the ordinaries and Martha had had time to get into place, and if Veronica and Gideon were over the wall.

They just had to hope.

* * *

Veronica watched JD’s back disappear into the tunnel before she turned away.

She shouldn’t have pushed him away. She missed him, grieving too soon and bitterly regretting that she hadn’t said goodbye, or any of the other relevant thoughts she had.

“He’ll be okay,” Betty said.

Veronica smiled like she believed her, but Betty’s eyes were too full of tears and fear for her to have been convincing. “Let’s go.”

After hugging Betty for an instant, Veronica gave her a gentle push towards the building she’d be spending the next few hours on.

When she turned to Martha, she saw so much fear she had to look away. “I’ll see you soon, Martha. Thank you for the dream.”

Martha smiled weakly. “You’re welcome. I… Are you sure you don’t want me to come with—“

“Stay with Betty, please. I… I would feel better knowing that someone with training is up there with them.”

Nodding, Martha squeezed Veronica’s hand. “I’ll do everything I can. When this is over and we can finally sleep, you’ll be glad I’m here.”

Veronica blinked back unwanted tears. “I already am.”

She turned her back before the flood of emotion overwhelmed her. Footsteps from behind her told her that Martha, Betty, Peter, and Dennis were leaving.

Gideon put his hand on her shoulder but she shook him off. This wasn’t the time for sentimentality, and she still felt like any moment she might drown in grief for the lives they hadn’t lost yet.

“Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.” She grabbed Gideon’s wrist and covered them both in an illusion. The work of holding it in place as they walked, shifting it to match their surroundings kept her busy enough to subdue her emotions.

They didn’t speak as they skirted the walls until they found a place they could climb.

When they peered over the wall, both stopped, and Veronica redoubled her efforts to keep the illusion in place.

The grounds were crawling with sentinel trainees, though initially Veronica didn’t recognize her classmates.

Their gray trainee uniforms were gone, upgraded to the uniforms of full sentinels.

They had graduated.

“How did this happen?” Veronica muttered. “When…”

“Shh!” Gideon hissed, ducking. “It doesn’t change anything.”

Veronica thought that it probably would change things, but the plan had been set in motion the second JD disappeared into the tunnel, so she couldn’t go back now.

“How do we get through them? I need to be in the courtyard.”

“We need to be in the courtyard,” Gideon corrected her. “I think we’ll have to fight our way through, but let’s wait until the senators and the Imperator gets here. If we start something before then they’ll just move the vote to city hall and we’re fucked.”

And so began the longest hour of Veronica’s life. She had no idea if JD, Heather, Heather, and Deka had made it. She had no idea if Heather had managed to get guns to Martha and the ordinaries. She had no way of knowing anything that was happening until she heard the sentinels on the other side of the wall begin to talk, whispers racing through the crowd.

“Something’s happening,” She whispered, gesturing for Gideon to stay down while she looked over the wall, hidden with an illusion.

Ducking back down, she looked at him. “They’re here.” _It’s time._

Breathing deeply, Veronica put an illusion over both of them so that they too were wearing sentinel’s uniforms. Gideon looked nearly as nauseous as Veronica felt, but they nodded once and climbed the wall.

Veronica kept them hidden until they were safely surrounded by the crowd. They moved with the press of bodies towards where the senators were assembling, ready to take a vote.

They were walking along the same path Veronica had taken on her first day here, and she glanced up, almost instinctively, wishing she would see the boy in the dark coat, watching, ready to throw fire at her enemies.

_You’re on your own now._

She looked away from the roof.

The sentinels stood in a ring around the courtyard, and Veronica took her place in line, watching as politicians filed in, taking their seats and turning to face Gowan, who stood on the reconstructed pavilion, staring out like a king facing his subjects.

 _This is the end of your reign,_ Veronica vowed with so much venom that she wondered if Gowan might have been able to sense it. His eyes swept over the crowd and she caught her breath, waiting for them to stop on her.

When they didn’t she exhaled.

It was getting close to time. She had to hope that JD and the others were all in place, because ready or not, Gowan was breathing into the microphone, about to start his speech.

Veronica breathed too, searching for the words to a speech of her own.

* * *

The tunnel was long, far longer than Heather’s maps had made it look, at least, and JD could sense that his companions were beginning to doubt their plan.

Part of JD agreed with them; there was plenty in the plan to doubt, but he had to keep faith. Veronica was already on her way to Westerburg, and if they didn’t make it, she would die for sure.

Deka walked next to him, silent and steady, the only piece of comfort in a moment that had him on the edge of a very dark pit.

“Do you think,” Heather whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

“We’re getting close, I’m sure,” Heather answered, her voice sounding more stubborn than confident.

“You said that ten minutes ago.”

“Stop whining,” Deka hissed. “We go on.”

JD reached out and put a hand on Deka’s shoulder, thanking her silently. His own confidence was wearing so thin he couldn’t take hearing anything negative from the others.

More time passed and they kept walking. With no way to mark the distance, it could have been miles. Time was marked with the steps they took, heavy and even against the dirt floor of the tunnel.

“We’ve been walking for over half an hour,” Heather whispered. “I think—”

“There’s a ladder,” JD said, cutting her off. His fire played differently on the rusted metal than the aged stone walls.

“This is it,” Heather said. “Who’s going first?”

“I will,” JD and Deka said at the same second. He locked eyes with her, straining to read her expression.

“I’ll go,” JD said. “If I don’t scream, follow me up.”

“And if you do scream?” Heather fidgeted, twitching like she was ready to run.

JD shrugged wryly. “Assume I’m dying horribly and change plans accordingly.”

“I’m glad to see you have such a good humor about this.” Deka glared at him, pursing her lips in irritation, but she didn’t try to fight him for the right to climb up first.

He didn’t pause to breathe or to prepare himself; there was no preparing himself for this. With a quick jump, he hauled himself up the ladder and climbed until his head connected with a trapdoor.

After several moments of pushing, he said, “It won’t budge.” Had they come all this way to be stopped by a fucking door?

Heather leapt up, climbing the ladder until she was just under him. “Give me some light. I need to see it.” A moment later, the door flung open, unable to withstand the force of Heather’s mind.

“Nice work,” JD said, tossing a smile over his shoulder while he pulled himself into a dingy basement.

It was dirty and full of discarded construction materials, some broken training equipment, and one large generator, likely supplying power to most of the academy’s power.

It was also empty.

JD had spent so much time preparing himself for a fight with his father, that seeing no one in the room was almost a letdown.

“It’s safe,” He whispered, reaching down to pull Heather up after him.

Heather skipped the ladder entirely, jumping from the ground directly into the room, landing precariously near the edge of the door.

Rolling her eyes at the display of power, Heather muttered, “Showoff.”

Deka appeared next to JD, standing as though she’d been there the whole time. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

He walked slowly around the generator, materializing from the shadows and dust like he had emerged from JD’s nightmares. “Hello Jason, Deka.”

JD lit one of his hands, an instinct and a warning. “What are you doing here?”

The general—his father— walked towards them slowly, completely relaxed. “I’m completing my plan. What are you doing?”

“Stopping you.”

In response, the general just laughed. The room got cold, and JD barely had time to brace himself for the fire that sprang up from the ground.

Next to him, Heather cowered.

Heather shoved her. “I’ll make a space, get the weapons and get out!”

It happened in an instant. Heather used her powers to open a small gap in the circle of flames and Heather rushed through it, so fast JD could barely see her.

The general snarled incoherently at the loss and the flames grew.

JD could see Heather fighting them, but it was an unconventional use of her power; telekinesis was typically used for solid objects. Seeing her struggle, JD prepared to set some fires of his own.

He started small, pulling his father’s attention away from Heather so she could continue fighting him in her way. “What are you doing here?” He asked again, mostly to aid his distraction.

“I told you—“

JD cut him off with another burst of fire near his feet. “Tell me more.”

“Don’t give me orders you—“

Another fire appeared near his elbow, and though JD’s heart was pounding and he was sure any second he would be burned, he kept going.

_I have to do this._

“You really want to know my plan, Jason? Come out here.” The general leered at him. “I’ll whisper it to you.”

JD blanched, and his momentary distraction was enough. Fire roared to life right at his feet, between him and Heather.

She dispersed it some, flattening it close to the ground until it went out.

“He has no fuel,” Heather hissed at him. “He can’t maintain his fire like you can. Don’t stop!”

Encouraged, JD sent more fire towards his father. “Let me guess,” He shouted. “You’re trying to attack Westerburg so Gowan’s bill goes through. The others are in the courtyard ready to start a riot when the building goes up in smoke.”

Disgust roiled in his stomach. “You’re working with that fucking state slave, aren’t you?”

The general’s lips—cracking from the heat— curled up. “I wondered if you’d figured it out.”

“Why?”

“Because this is how we win, Jason.” He hurled more heat at JD.

He could smell burning hair and knew that his father was displaying his perfect control, barely singeing the ends just to show he could. “You’re working with the enemy.”

“Only for as long as I have to,” The general said casually, as if he wasn’t in the middle of a fight.

Heather was gasping for breath, exhausted, and Deka had a hand on her back, healing an injury JD couldn’t see or just offering strength.

“You see, Jason, once the chief sentinel’s bill passes, there will be enough exceptions locked in this place to build an army. The state will belong to exceptions, just like it should.”

“But—“

“The chief sentinel planned the same thing. He thought he could use the rebellion, promised me we would control it together.” The general didn’t seem to care much about Gowan’s assumed betrayal. “I knew he would do the same thing to me.”

It was complete idiocy, and it was idiocy that would get hundreds of people killed.

“They’re kids!” JD shouted, feeling a roar grow in his ears. He could picture ten year old exceptions being marched into Westerburg and his father’s waiting arms. He could picture hundreds, thousands of exceptions—sentinels and rebels, who could tell the difference anymore—dying in a battle to take over the state.

All so his father could rule.

Fury grew, rose, filled him in a way that was so powerful it hurt.

All the times he’d watched when his father hurt someone else raced to his mind. Everything he had done, everything he would do.

His mother burning.

Veronica cowering.

Exceptions fighting, dying.

_Burn it all away._

Fire roared in his ears as he summoned it, drawing from somewhere dark inside him, a place he’d been scared to get too close to his whole life.

It burned away his fears and he lost himself in the fire completely, letting it roar around them, wrapping around his father until the sound of a long, unbroken scream entered JD’s mind, calling him out of the burning place.

“Jason!”

He shook. That wasn’t his father’s voice. That was… Deka. Her name hit his mind and the fire faded out, breaking like a fever and leaving JD shaking and sweating.

The screaming had stopped.

Blinking slowly, he looked around. Heather and Deka were still standing next to him, a wall of fire that was somehow almost protective surrounded them.

Deka was watching him, her dark eyes guarded and shining. “JD?”

Looking past her, JD saw his father, huddled on the ground.

Snapping his fingers, JD stopped the fire.

“We have a war to stop,” He said simply and walked past his father with the others in tow, leaving him to die of his wounds.

They walked by a room that must have been used for weapons storage. Guns were discarded across the floor as though a hurricane had torn through the small space, gun racks and shelves lay in pieces on the ground.

“Looks like Heather did her job,” Heather said, and though JD thought she was trying to make a joke, he could hear the relief in her voice.

“Let’s hope she got them to the others.”

There was a pause, a beat, a breath before they opened the door that would bring them into the main halls of Westerburg.

The halls were empty.

If JD had been expecting anything, this was not it. Where were the sentinels? Where were the students?

“Something isn’t right?”

“Oh, you think so?” Heather said, rolling her eyes. “Everyone must already be in the courtyard.”

“Everyone?” Deka said, arching an eyebrow. “It seems… stupid for them to empty the building completely.”

“Gowan was a part of all this,” JD said, still simmering over his father’s words. “He probably emptied the place so the general could get in.”

“His mistake is good for us,” Deka said, and they continued down the hall.

JD smiled. “We’ll be able to make an entrance.”

* * *

Gowan droned on, and Veronica waited for an opportunity. Nothing presented itself. Should she interrupt him?

She wanted to, but she wasn’t certain that they wouldn’t kill her on sight, and fear kept her silent in line.

Her eyes darted to Gideon’s. _Do something,_ He seemed to be saying.

But Veronica didn’t know what to do.

Veronica was not the first person to notice the smoke that was issuing from the windows. There was a small, quiet stir as the sentinels noticed and started to draw their teammates’ attention to it.

Gowan was the last to notice, his attention turning towards the building just as JD, Heather and Deka emerged.

Veronica’s breath caught. Everyone in the courtyard was looking at them.

Raising a hand to point at them, Gowan shouted, “Stop th—“

Did she hear the gunshot first, or see the blood?

It happened so fast perhaps she didn’t notice either before Gowan was on the ground, dead.

 _Heather got the weapons to Betty and the others,_ Veronica thought, strangely detached.

Everyone else in the crowd seemed to have a similar moment of pause while they tried to make sense of what they’d seen.

The chief sentinel had been assassinated.

Chaos erupted.

Members of the audience stood, baring weapons and firing into the line of sentinels and the line crumbled as everyone rushed to grab their own weapons and unleash powers, leaving Veronica and Gideon exposed.

“The rebellion is here,” Gideon said, his eyes wide as he ducked behind a nearby chair, pulling Veronica with him.

“Where are the others? I saw JD and Heather but then I lost track of them.” She peered over the edge of a chair and narrowly avoided a foot flying towards her face.

Diving back out of the way, she rolled to a new hiding place, dragging Gideon with her.

“No idea. They were just coming out of the building when…” He trailed off.

Veronica shook her head, debating the risks and rewards of trying to search for their allies.

“Fire!” Gideon shouted, sounding oddly gleeful about it.

Relief flooded her; JD was a part of the battle. It wasn’t the plan but—

A body hit the ground next to her.

A sentinel, barely older than Veronica was stared up at the gray sky with empty eyes. He had a bruise that would never fully form on one cheek.

Veronica choked, gagged and nearly vomited. Gideon grabbed her under her arms and hauled her away from the body, but it was too late.

She had seen him.

Others were falling or had fallen too. The courtyard was such a mess of crowds and smoke and the thick, cloying smell of death that Veronica wished she could fly away.

_Don’t you just want to get away from it all?_

She did, desperately.

Unable to think surrounded by the sights, smells, and sounds of battle, Veronica pulled an illusion over her eyes.

Blank. Empty.

Within her box, she could almost ignore everything she could still sense. She could think here.

But there were no choices left. No amount of time spent thinking would have offered her a solution. There was no way to avoid this, no matter how hard she tried. It was too late.

Nothing would stop this fight except for her.

Dropping her illusion, Veronica plunged into the crowd. Through a combination of fighting, pushing and sheer luck she hadn’t known she possessed, Veronica made it to the dais and grabbed the blood-slick microphone out of Gowan’s hand.

She drew in a deep breath and called on her power. “Stop!”


	19. Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like last week, there's some gore in this chapter. I tried not to be gratuitous and keep the rating in mind, but take care of yourself if that's something you find triggering. Thank you all for reading. Enjoy.

Suddenly everything became very quiet.

JD had been in a couple of riots before, but never one that had moments of silence.

Never one that stopped when no one was running away.

But this one did.

It stopped. And he looked.

Everyone looked.

A second ago, JD had been back to back with Heather, fighting to maintain some space between them and the handful of sentinels that were surrounding them.

Now, all of them were looking at Veronica.

She had asked them to stop, and so of course they had.

 _That’s not right,_ A quiet voice whispered in his head. _Battles don’t just stop._

Veronica’s power. Thinking about it was like getting a small electric shock, just enough to wake him up.

“Everyone stop,” Veronica repeated, and under the thin, silky thread of power, JD could hear her astonishment. She hadn’t expected this to work.

The silence was painful. Could Veronica lose hold on everyone if she waited too long?

_Say something, darling. Please._

“Why are we doing this? Does anyone even know? Are we letting dead men send us to our deaths for any reason at all?”

Veronica looked around, and for a moment, their eyes met. JD nodded once, encouraging her as best her could from where he was standing.

“I’m sick of it. I’m sick of bleeding, burning, and aching because we’re trapped in this fucking mess, but we have the power to stop it. We can end this now!”

There was a long silence; Veronica took a deep breath. “It’s time to take our power back.”

JD felt the thread of her power snap. Everyone was waking up, remembering Veronica’s words.

He listened, straining to hear what people were talking about, to see where they were going.

Had it worked?

Barely daring to hope, JD saw some weapons lower, he saw people take cautious steps back from their opponents.

He didn’t see his father until it was too late.

The dais burst into flames just as JD began to feel sure that Veronica’s speech had worked. He lost sight of her, and an instinct pulled him towards the dais until he was standing in front of it.

His father emerged through clouds of smoke, one half of his face blistered and nearly unrecognizable. He stopped with only two feet between them, and JD knew that this was the real final fight.

This time, one of them would die.

JD scanned the dais, searching for Veronica. She didn’t emerge from the charred rubble, but he had to trust that she had gotten out. The possibility that she hadn’t was too much to consider.

“Too much of a coward to kill me?” The general hissed.

“I wanted you to die slow.”

Flames roared around him and circled his father. This time, JD didn’t try to trap him. He threw the flames at his father, into him, and tried to block the shouts of pain from his hearing.

Heat that wasn’t his built up near his feet and he tried to step away, narrowly avoiding walking into a wall of his father’s fire.

The battle raged again, this time more chaotic than before as people changed sides and no one knew who they were supposed to be fighting, or which direction would lead to freedom.

JD tried desperately to tune it out, but people pressed around him on all sides, so close he wanted to scream. Half his mind was listening for familiar voices, unsure if he wanted to hear them or wanted them to be very, very far away from this.

Exhaustion gripped him and his focus slipped away, taking the flames with it. He breathed deep, choking on ash and heat from the school burning around them.

“Did you think you could escape?” The general laughed and his flames climbed higher, dwarfing JD.

He tried to push him back again, but Heather’s words echoed in his head. She had been right about fighting fire with fire.

It wasn’t working.

“Why the school?” JD asked, desperately trying to distract his father, just for a moment to catch his breath.

“I wanted to stop you.”

Nothing would stop the general. The realization hit JD slowly and took his breath with it. He wouldn’t stop until JD was dead. If Veronica was alive under the remains of the dais, he would kill her next.

His father would burn the whole damn city if it meant he could kill them for ruining his plan.

JD fell to his knees, embracing the shock of pain as they hit the concrete underneath him. His fire died completely, and his eyes slipped closed.

He was tired.

It was over.

The crush of wood breaking next to him forced his eyes up, and he saw Veronica clawing her way out of the wreckage, her eyes furious through the blood coming from a cut that ran alongside her face.

Fierce and sudden relief flooded him and the fire picked back up, driving his father back a step, stronger than before.

“Not yet,” He hissed. Calling on whatever was left of his secondary, he hauled himself to his feet and brought more fire into the fight, driving his father even further back.

The dredges of his strength were enough to corner the general against the wall, and a wild, uncontrollable smile fought its way to his lips. Now he would finish this.  

Everything was almost fine. He felt himself winning, felt his own fire, strong and controlled, beating his father’s and forcing him back against the wall.

Everything might have been fine if a shout hadn’t drawn JD’s attention away.

Everything might have been fine if he hadn’t seen the back wall of the courtyard blow up.

Everything might have been fine if he hadn’t seen Gideon disappear under the rubble.

But he had heard the shout, and he had seen the wall explode, and Gideon had gone with it.

In the split second it took for him to see all this, his father lunged forward and seized the hem of his coat, sending flames shooting up it.

Pain, familiar and horrible, coated his skin. He didn’t scream. He had given everything he had already, and no strength remained for making sound.

He fell silently to the ground, embracing the welcome darkness.

* * *

Veronica watched JD collapse, still reeling from the rapid sequence of events.

She had thought her speech was working until the dais had burned underneath her and the battle had started again.

Seeing the explosion had jarred her out of whatever trance she’d been under when she had managed to fight her way out of the wreckage and she’d tried to get to JD, to help him.

The explosion had stopped her.

Gideon.

Was he the only one? Were any of the others…

Her eyes returned to JD. His coat was on fire and he was on the ground, too still.

Something snapped inside Veronica. Something dark and primal rose up in her chest and she suddenly felt like she was breathing clean air despite the dust, ash, and heat around her.

She stepped between the general and JD.

Calling up an illusion, she trapped him. Cutting off his vision, she let him believe that he was trapped in a white box.

“You can’t fight it,” She said, knowing he would believe her; knowing he had to. “You’re stuck there. You can’t get out.”

Fear flickered in his eyes, and he put one hand up, as though resting it on glass that wasn’t there.

She summoned more illusions, dark, twisted things that came straight from every nightmare she’d ever had.

The general’s breathing picked up. He was afraid.

Veronica smiled.

Now she called fire. Remembering the time she had imitated JD’s flames, she twined the flames around the general’s legs like ropes holding him in place. “They’re real,” She told him.

JD wasn’t moving.

Fear normally choked her, but she found that words were coming more easily than they ever had. “You’re burning. You’re burning like everyone you’ve burned. It hurts.”

He started to moan, long, ugly, pained noises that would have nauseated her any other time.

More fire. _Let him burn_.

Veronica smiled. “It will never end. You are trapped with all this fire and all this pain and it will never end.”

A sob rose in her throat. “It will never end!”

She was screaming it at him, her voice breaking.

A hand gripped her shoulder and she turned to see JD, bleeding and scarred, but alive and awake, half holding himself up on her.

Meeting his eyes was like waking up. The darkness behind her eyes receded and she choked out another sob. Her throat closed.

It was her turn to fall to her knees, suddenly overwhelmed with what she’d done.

The general was huddled on the ground, twitching faintly and muttering something Veronica couldn’t hear and didn’t want to.

“Oh god….” She gagged, and her stomach turned over as she retched.

“Veronica,” JD said, nearly yelling though he was crouched next to her. “Not now. It’s not over.”

He was right, of course. Though the battle had pushed back now that the wall was gone, and people had cleared away from them when the fire started, the fight was still raging around them.

Veronica raised her head and looked at it.

It was impossible to tell who was winning. It was impossible to even tell who was fighting on what side. “We have to do something.”

“They don’t know what he did,” JD said. “If the rebellion knew, they might… Deka!”

Without another word, JD plunged into the crowd, leaving her alone. Veronica sighed. “Thanks.”

For a second, she was alone in the small cleared space, next to the general who showed no signs of wanting to stand or being able to. She tried to savor the brief calm and take a deep breath.

_I need to make a plan. I need…_

A man—Rebel? Sentinel? Veronica couldn’t tell— ran at her, and Veronica had put her hands up to fight. Out of nowhere, he fell to the ground, bleeding from a bullet wound in his chest.

Strange relief filled her. _Betty._

It was a reminder and an awakening. She had to get back into the fight. Sparing one last glance for the fallen general, Veronica braced herself and grabbed the gun from her attacker’s hand.

The weapon was nearly useless in such close quarters, but Veronica gripped it anyway. Bodies pushed around her, knocking her aside and throwing her into the path of other fights.

 _What side are you on?_ She wanted to ask. _Should I help you?_

It wasn’t until she caught sight of a flash of yellow out of the corner of her eye that she gained any direction.

Heather McNamara was fighting with a sentinel a few feet away, and though she moved so fast Veronica could barely see her, Veronica could tell she wasn’t winning.

Moving fast, Veronica lunged towards them, but she was a second too late.

The sentinel grabbed Heather’s wrist out of the air and brought his blade down onto her wrist.

Heather’s hand fell in slow motion, and Veronica watched, horrified as it hit the ground.

It was as though Heather didn’t notice. Her other hand flashed out and gripped the sentinel’s throat, snapping his neck and dropping him.

“Heather!” Veronica ran towards her, stopping just short of running into her. “Are you…”

The words died on her lips. There was no way she was okay; why bother asking?

Heather’s eyes were swimming with tears. She gripped her wrist as blood soaked her sleeves, dripping onto the ground. “My… My hand…”

Veronica grabbed Heather’s arm and dragged her out of the fighting, cursing her useless powers. She couldn’t lie to make this better; she couldn’t make an illusion to fool Heather into believing that everything would be fine. “Come with me.”

She sat Heather down behind the collapsed dais, where she would be mostly hidden from the fighting. “Stay here. Just… wait here until it’s over. Try to stop the bleeding.”

“Veronica!” Heather said weakly, “Did I do well?”

For the second time, Veronica had to fight the urge to vomit. “Yes, Heather. You were perfect.”

Heather rested her head on the wall. “Good.”

Still horrified and dazed, Veronica went back into the fight, this time moving slowly, deliberately. She would end this.

Now.

She fought her way to the center of the courtyard. Pushing people, shooting when she had to, she finally made it.

Heather Duke was backed against the remains of the wall, her red hair stark against the concrete.

Veronica locked eyes with her, praying that she could somehow understand what she needed.

A second later, people were staggering away from Veronica as though pushed.

The odd movement slowed the fighting and even stopped it in some places, people shifted, separating.

The sentinels that were still standing—many of them kids that Veronica recognized—stopped attacking and fell into more defensive tactics.

One fight raged on. JD was battling with Fleming, Deka on the ground near his feet. It was fire versus lighting, and evenly matched, but JD seemed to have picked up on a weakness. Though Fleming was powerful enough to have taken down Deka, she had to recharge between large blasts of electricity. JD used one of these pauses to help Deka up.

Veronica saw the gun before JD noticed, but he turned in time to get shot twice.

One shot went wide, hitting his outstretched hand as he tried to help Deka up.

The other hit him in the chest and he fell back.

Veronica screamed, the sound tearing from her throat.

Deka didn’t bother screaming. She hauled herself up and plunged the broken end of her staff through Fleming’s chest.

 Finally, everything stopped again and the dust began to settle.  

It was as though everyone had been watching that battle and Deka killing Fleming had signaled some kind of end to the entire fight.

For the second time, Veronica took a deep breath and prepared herself to speak.

She had no grand speech. She had no idea how to stop this, but she had the truth, and that would have to be enough.

“Why are we doing this?” Her voice was loud enough to echo, stinging her already aching throat.  

“What are we fighting for?” Veronica looked around, locking eyes with a few people in the crowd. “Does anyone even know? Your leaders are dead, or they wish they were, so who is telling you to do this?”

She waited, almost expecting a response, but no sound came from the exhausted crowd.

“We can’t keep doing this. It has to end somewhere, and I say it ends now. There have been more betrayals today than any of you know. Chief Sentinel Gowan was working with the rebel leader to kill the senators and take over the state. The rebel general was planning on killing Gowan to rule the state on his own.”

Whispers filled the courtyard, and Veronica strained to hear what they were saying. Did they believe her?

 _Please believe me._ She knew she could make them believe her, but the thought made her eyes flick to the general, who was sitting up now, staring at the world with empty eyes. 

“We have all been lied to, and now it’s time to stop the lies, and stop the war. It’s our now, we decide what to do with it.”

There was a loud, metallic thud as a weapon hit the ground. Veronica locked eyes with a girl she barely recognized from classes. She had dropped the staff she was fighting with and had put her hands up.

Next to her, a rebel, roughly her own age—Veronica thought of Gideon with a pang—did the same.

Slowly, more people did the same. Those that resisted were restrained by the people standing nearest them and lined up against the wall. Everyone started speaking again, in low, slow tones.

Veronica walked between them, gripping Heather’s hand when they reached each other.

“I need to find JD. He was over there—” She pointed where she had last seen him and Deka, though there was no sign of them now. “He got shot.”

Heather squeezed her hand. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“I know. I need Deka… Heather is…” Veronica stopped. She hadn’t looked towards the place she’d left Heather, afraid of what she would find.

“JD?” Veronica’s voice had grown weak, and JD didn’t respond. A couple people glanced at her, but no one offered help.

“Deka?” Heather joined her with her slightly stronger voice. “Deka?”

A knot of people parted, revealing Deka kneeling on the ground next to JD.

He was curled in on himself, cradling his hand. Veronica could see blood on his chest, but he was turned so she couldn’t see how badly hurt he was.

“JD, I have to look at it,” Deka said slowly. “Give me your hand.”

He groaned softly, and Veronica cringed back but forced herself to move forward. Even if he was dying, she should be there.

Deka barely glanced at her when she knelt down next to them. “You may have to hold him down.”

“I won’t,” Veronica said. She pushed JD’s hair off his head, ignoring when he flinched away. “Listen to me, JD. You’re tired. You just want to sleep. You aren’t in pain. You can’t feel anything except exhaustion. Your eyes are heavy, and you want to close them.”

Deka watched with raised eyebrows as Veronica continued to lie to JD. She tried to ignore the incredulous stares she was getting.

They would figure out what she could do, and that scared her, but losing JD scared her more. “All you want to do is sleep, JD. Just go to sleep.”

His eyes were closed, and he had relaxed enough that Deka could lift his hand. “He won’t sleep through this,” She warned Veronica.

“Heather, help me hold him.”

Nodding, Heather knelt behind JD’s head and pressed down on his shoulders.

Veronica tried to ignore the screaming. She kept talking to him, begging him to believe her that he couldn’t feel the pain, but it didn’t seem to have an effect.

Finally, Deka lifted her hand away, revealing the clean, healed space where JD’s finger had been blown off.

“The one on his chest will be harder. I don’t have a way to get the bullet out.”

“Can’t you heal him now and get it out later?” Veronica said, watching JD twitch and groan. “You don’t feel it. You’re happy and tired.”

“I would do more damage getting it out later. He’s bleeding out as it is.”

“Give me a second,” Heather said. She grit her teeth and pressed her hand against JD’s side, right over the wound. “I found it!”

She pulled her hand away and paused for a long moment.

JD shouted once before passing out again, but Veronica breathed a sigh of relief. The bullet floated out of him and landed next to him.

“Did I get it?” Heather asked, opening one eye.

Veronica launched herself at her, half hugging half tackling her. “You got it,” She breathed. “Thank you, Heather, you got it.”

“Hold him!” Deka shouted, and Heather and Veronica leapt back into place as she began to heal him.

He screamed and Veronica flinched but kept her grip until it was over.

Veronica was shaking when she stood. “We need to… Heather, she’s—” She didn’t know how to finish the explanation.

Deka nodded. “Take me to her.”

“Corbin,” Heather called, pointing to one of their former classmates in the crowd, “Guard him. If anything happens to him, I’ll do the same to you three times over, do you understand?”

Frightened, the boy nodded. “Yes Heather.”

Veronica led the way to the small space behind the clearing. At first glance, she thought they were too late.

Heather was slouched over against the wall, soaked in blood and still maintaining a loose grip on what remained of her right wrist.

Deka paused and swallowed hard before proceeding forward. Veronica was relieved not to be the one who had to check for a pulse. She didn’t want to know.

“She’s alive,” Deka breathed, her accent stronger than Veronica had ever heard it. “We don’t have much time. You’ll have to hold her down too.”

“We won’t be able to,” Heather said. “She’s too strong.”

“Try,” Deka snapped, impatience bleeding through her forced calm.

Heather looked at Veronica, chewing her lip. “I can… I can do it, just stand back.”

Veronica had no idea how much it took from Heather to use her powers to hold Heather down when she was screaming and writhing to get away from Deka’s hands. Veronica had to look away.

When it was over, Heather turned aside and threw up, choking for a moment before she stepped forward to comfort Heather, who was awake, but shaking violently.

“She’s in shock,” Deka said. “There’s not much I can do about that. Keep her warm and I’ll be back later to check on her.”

Heather had wrapped herself around Heather, smearing them both with blood. Heather barely seemed to notice the contact, too fixated on the smooth, healed skin where her hand had once been.

Again, Veronica had to look away, cursing her weakness.

In a daze, she walked through the battlefield, trying not to look too hard at the bodies on the ground. Unable to think of anywhere else she could go, Veronica went back to JD. He was unconscious or sleeping, so she settled in next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Finally, she closed her eyes and accepted sleep with gratitude.

* * *

JD woke with asleep Veronica next to him, sore and oddly surprised to find himself alive.

“He’s awake.”

He thought he recognized the voice, but there was something odd and wrong about the way it sounded. “What? Say that again.”

He knew he was speaking too loud, Martha looked scared and surprised by it. Something wasn’t… He put his hand against his ear, finding scarred skin where there should have been hair.

The fight with his father came back to him. He remembered his ears ringing, he remembered his coat catching fire while he was wearing it. His hair must have burned too.

And his ear.

“Deka,” He forced himself to whisper so that he wouldn’t yell. “I can’t hear.”

“One of your ears was damaged in the fight. I… I heal wounds, JD. There wasn’t—”

“I know,” He said reflexively. He knew Deka would be blaming herself for the damage. “It’s… I’m just not used to it. I feel lopsided.” He attempted a weak laugh.

“You want to talk about lopsided,” A hollow voice said.

He turned to hear her better and saw Heather, looking lost and pale, holding up her right arm.

Her hand was gone. “Oh, god, Heather…”

“I lived,” Heather said, sounding surprised and perhaps not overjoyed about it.

JD’s eyes flicked to the collapsed wall and the stack of bodies. Someone had started clearing away the rubble.

“They found him,” Deka said, suddenly looking ancient. “I’m sorry, JD.”

His eyes burned, wanting tears but finding none. He turned his head and pressed his face into Veronica’s hair, choking on a sob.

Tears were leaking from Heather’s eyes. “It was my fault. The wall… I didn’t see the explosives and it was too late. I should have moved them. I could have—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” JD said hollowly. “Blowing out that wall was part of their plan. You couldn’t have known.”

They cried quietly together until Veronica began to stir.

Heather wiped her face on her sleeve, smearing her face with soot and reached out to take Heather’s good hand.

“Veronica?” Betty said quietly.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up, looking around wildly. “Where—”

“Shh, Veronica, it’s okay, we’re here,” JD said, catching himself speaking too loud and carefully lowering his voice. “We’re here.”

He watched as she counted them, saw her realize who wasn’t there and quietly accept it.

Heather was looking around too, searching faces. She forced something that almost looked like a smile. “We look like hell.”

Veronica nodded. “We just got back.”

There was a long pause as they looked at each other before Veronica voiced the question that was haunting them all. “What now?”


	20. Sun Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me. I'm not ready to see it end, so I put off posting this for as long as I could. It hasn't made me feel any better. I've been so lucky to have people continue to read this and take the time to tell me what they thought. Thank you all. Enjoy.

**  
**

The funerals were next.

Sorting, identifying, and burying or burning the dead was the next task, and JD only barely had the stomach for it.

Most of the rebels had no family to tell them how to handle the body, so they were burned. Now that the battle was over, people had emerged to look at Westerburg and try to understand what had happened.

JD had watched as Veronica explained it to small groups of people who then spread it around.

Nearly all of the senators had died in the fight. JD hadn’t been paying any attention to them, but in many ways his father’s plan had succeeded.

The government as they’d known it was gone and there was nothing in its place.

Yet.

Building a government from scratch seemed easy to JD now that he had faced tragic-eyed parents asking after exception children that had been stolen from them.

It was dawn the day after the battle that he first noticed the woman with three boys trailing behind her. She picked her way carefully over the rubble, occasionally glancing at bodies on the ground.

Most of the dead had been moved, but some injured remained, and many people who’d been helping take care of them or moving the dead or clearing away wreckage had collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, meaning that once again the battlefield was littered with bodies, though JD was relieved that they were still alive this time.

The woman, however, didn’t know this. She could barely look at them before glancing away, fixing her eyes on the wall ahead of her so as not to see them. The boys in her shadow looked, but seemed just as scared.

JD would have recognized her eventually—as soon as she got close he saw the resemblance—but when one of the boys looked up and met JD’s eyes, he knew who they were immediately.

Walking across the courtyard to meet her felt like the longest seconds of his life. What would he say? Was there anything that would help at all?

“You’re Gideon’s family.”

The woman looked up, her gray eyes full of tears. “You know him? Is he—”

JD didn’t need to be able to hear her properly to know what she’d said. “I’m sorry.”

She choked on a sob, trying to disguise it as a cough, but the boys looked at her like she might be able to change what he’d said.

Feeling cowardly, JD shifted so that his bad ear was closer to her, muffling those horrible little cough-sobs. Tears rose to his eyes.

 _I am sorry,_ He wanted to say. _I should have saved him._ He clenched his fist, still hyperaware of the finger he’d lost.

“Was he good?” It was such a simple question, posed by one of the boys, who JD immediately identified as the exception Gideon had mentioned. It was in his eyes.

“Yes,” JD said. “He was one of the best people I’ve ever known.” He knelt so that he would be eye level with the boy. “He wanted you to have a better world.”

This did not seem to comfort the sad-eyed boy. He simply nodded.

JD looked over the crowd and caught Veronica’s eye. She raised a questioning eyebrow. _Do you need me?_

He shook his head.

“Uh, sir, we have… we finished.”

JD turned to look at the former sentinel who had interrupted the already awkward moment.

“Finished—”

“The body, sir, it’s… we put it into the coffin.”

He nodded and returned his attention to Gideon’s mother. “Ma’am, you can take him home to be buried if you’d like.”

Color dropped out of her face and she swayed. JD caught her elbows before she fell but she shook him off, clinging to her son’s shoulder to stay up.

“Is that what you’re doing with most of them?” Her voice was almost steady, despite her ashen face.

JD wondered if it was possible that she hadn’t smelled the smoke. “No. We burned most of the exceptions.”

“He would want to go like them,” The exception boy said.

Gideon’s mother shuddered but nodded. “Can we stay?”

“Of course.” He turned to the sentinel and nodded. “Bring him here.”

Veronica appeared next to him. “Take him to the front.” She pointed to the blackened remains of the dais.

She took JD’s hand and at first he recoiled, not wanting her to feel the place where his finger was missing, but it was too comforting not to hold on.  He borrowed her strength to keep the tears at bay, begging himself to stay strong as long as Gideon’s family was here.

While Gideon’s remains were carried forward, JD gathered everyone who had known him.

“Was he your friend?” Gideon’s exception brother asked.

“Yes,” JD said. “He talked about you a lot.”

“I’m Cole,” The boy said.

“What can you do?”

Cole’s eyes were suddenly locked on the ground. “I don’t know, but I’m not like him.”

“How do you know?”

He gestured towards the coffin and the smoke-filled battlefield, encompassing everything. “It hurts.”

JD bit his cheek and swallowed hard, keeping a sob at bay, but only barely. Tears leaked from his eyes before he could stop them.

The coffin was in place, and JD knew someone should say a few words. He looked around, waiting for someone to step forward, silently begging Veronica to. She was so much better at this. She would say the right thing.

But she stayed where she was, squeezing his hand once before letting it go.

He stepped forward. “Gideon… Should never have needed to be at this fight, but he was drafted the moment his DNA was decided. He was destined to end up here, as a rebel or a sentinel. This was the fate of all exceptions. But I think he would have chosen to be here no matter what. He would have seen that something was wrong, and chosen to fight to fix it.”

“When I met him, he was a rebel and he told me it was because he didn’t want his brother to have to be a sentinel. When he realized what the rebellion really was—a front for a tyrant and a coward trying to take more power—he knew before I did that we had to be a better rebellion.” JD took a deep breath as tears threatened him again.

“Whatever happens now, whatever we decide to do with the future he gave his life to create, we do in his memory and his honor.”

He held out a shaking hand and, starting at the foot of the coffin, set a funeral fire.

***

It was all a confusing mess. Veronica floated from one cluster of people trying to get organized to another, each one arguing about the finer points of some government system they could create. It would have been exhausting on any day, but Veronica had barely slept before the battle, and now, almost a full day later, she still hadn’t had more than brief naps.

Her dreams, at least, had been pleasant. Martha had been working overtime, finally able to exercise her talents to prevent and help the many nightmares that were plaguing everyone.

Eventually, organization grew out of the mess. Natural leaders stepped forward and began taking steps to control the chaos.

Veronica happily stepped aside and let anyone else deal with it.

Betty had become an unofficial liaison for all ordinaries, offering perspective and advice while they tried to rebuild a government. Despite many adults that tried to step into the role, it was Betty to whom people kept coming with questions, and soon, she was seated at the head of the table for new leaders.

“We’ll have a vote,” She said over and over again, “Once things are settled down, we’ll be able to campaign and vote for leaders amongst ourselves. Those people will become a council to decide how to set up the government. They’ll create plans for everyone to decide between.”

This became the story that was spread across the city. In the interim, all exceptions were free. Several sentinels had volunteered to continue patrolling the streets to stop looting and whatever other riots evolved from ordinaries attempting to protect the old order.

Veronica stayed away from all of it, only stepping forward when Betty asked her to. Most of them had realized what she could do, and so she kept silent so no one would think she was trying to influence anyone.

Deka didn’t have that option. As soon as people realized that she was a healer, they flocked to her like moths to a flame. Veronica hadn’t seen her without a crowd of people around her in hours, and it didn’t seem likely that would change.

Only JD had managed to get a second of her time before he’d disappeared sometime around sunset.

Hours later, Veronica had given up trying to find him in the crowd, and it was clear that. Deka would be chosen—probably unanimously— to be the representative from the rebellion.

Heather Duke was also directing people, though in a quieter way than Deka or Betty. After having her few wounds healed, she had set about weeding out sentinels that still wanted to fight for the old state. Most of them were relieved to lay down their weapons, but those that resisted were sent to temporary holding facilities. Eventually they would figure out what to do with them.

When she had finished that all-important sorting task, Heather had taken a seat next to Betty and begun offering government plans that had been suggested in the past. As one of the only people in Sherwood who knew any of its history, Heather quickly became an advisor to just about everyone, but Betty kept her closest, and Veronica became oddly used to the sight of them together.

When exhaustion threatened to overcome her, Veronica found the only person who could be trusted not to ask her to do something.

Heather McNamara sat against the wall, her arm in a sling as she looked out over the crowd with haunted eyes.

Veronica took a seat next to her. “How are you?”

“I’m not sure. One of the sentinels said that there’s a guy who might be able to make me a knew hand.  That it’s what he does, some kind of weird machinery exception, but… it won’t be the same.”

“No, it won’t,” Veronica said, unsure of how else to reply. Nothing would ever be the same again.

“Apparently some exceptions can regrow limbs. I’m not one of them.”

“How do you even learn that’s your ability?” The words escaped Veronica before she’d had a chance to think about them.

But Heather surprised her with a laugh. “You’d never know unless you needed it. Like yours, I guess.”

Veronica blanched. “Heather I—”

“I know you didn’t use it on us. I think I would have known, the way I could always feel it when Heather used her powers. Thank you.”

Uncomfortable, Veronica just shrugged.

They were silent for a long moment.

“You know I can’t run as fast anymore? I tried earlier, but it felt so off balance; it slowed me down.” Heather’s head dropped down, and Veronica saw tears shining in the light from the lanterns nearby.

“Heather…”

“It’s okay, Veronica,” She said, muffled but strong. “It’s a new way to live. I’ll figure it out. I’ll be able to run again.”

Veronica put her arm around Heather’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “I know.”

After a while, Heather stood. “Part of the dormitory wing is still standing, I’m going to try to find a bed before the sun comes up, want to come? You look like you could use it.”

Veronica shook her head. “I have to go somewhere.”

Heather nodded once and slipped away into the crowd.

Hauling herself to her feet, Veronica looked around once more, but didn’t see the face she had been searching for.

But she knew where he was.

***

He should have expected her to find him on the roof. Running away after Gideon’s funeral had probably been cowardly, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. If he’d been asked to light one more fire, he was sure he would have cried.

He had, eventually, let himself weep openly, but only when he’d made it to the roof where no one could see or hear him.

Veronica, of course, had found him eventually, but only many hours later, when he was finished, wrung out and exhausted as he looked out over the city.

She sat down next to him, and he wondered if she had to think about it before she settled next to his good ear.

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

She searched his face. “Really?”

Shrugging, he looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes. “Yeah. How are things down there?”

“Messy,” She answered. “Confusing.  But good. Better, at least. We’re figuring things out.”

“Do we have a government?”

“Not yet. We have people who might form a committee to suggest government ideas for people to vote on.”

JD almost managed to laugh. “That’s a lot of steps away from a government.”

“It’s a start.”

It was a start, and JD had to credit everyone involved for at least trying; he had run away. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw fire, consuming him, Gideon, sentinels, trainees, senators, and rebels. The smell wouldn’t leave him.

Someone had given him a trainee’s uniform to change into, but the idea of putting it on had disturbed him too much, and he’d kept his singed pants and t shirt from the rebellion, his coat having been turned mostly to ash in the battle.

Veronica put her hand on his shoulder. “We’re almost out of it, JD.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be—” His voice cracked and he stopped.

“JD…”

“I’ll never be normal again.” He held up his hand, missing one finger and gestured vaguely to the ear that wouldn’t work. He couldn’t keep the note of accusation out of his voice.

She hadn’t been hurt.

Veronica pulled at a loose string on her shirt. “Neither will I. The things I saw… The things I did. Your dad, JD—”

JD flinched and couldn’t look at Veronica. The general had not recovered. He stared into space, acknowledging no one and barely reacting to pain. Occasionally, he muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Whatever Veronica had done seemed to have completely broken his mind, leaving a shell behind.

“He deserved it,” JD said. He was aiming for a cold, aloof tone, but missed the mark and sounded only hollow.

“Do you think… Will he get better?”

JD doubted it, but wasn’t sure Veronica would want to hear that, so he only shrugged.

She looked out over the city, which was outlined against a gray sky, not yet fully lit. “I’m scared to speak. I… I used my powers on you. I promised not to and—”

“You saved me.” He remembered, though only vaguely, the sound of her voice cutting through waves of pain and carrying him somewhere nice. He had fallen asleep to that sound, and his dreams had been nice.

When he’d woken up, she was there, exhausted, soot-smeared, and shaking. “I needed you,” He said, “And you were there.”

She still wouldn’t meet his eye. “I won’t do it again. I’ll never use it again,” She vowed.

“Yes, you will.”

Veronica’s jaw dropped and she finally looked at him, her dark eyes flashing with indignation.

That hint of her spirit lightened the weight on his shoulders enough that he felt like he could breathe. “You’ll use it again if you have to. You survive, Veronica. That’s how we got through all this, and it’s how we’ll get through whatever happens next.”

Veronica moved closer to him, leaning against him and wrapping her fingers around his hand. “We?”

JD nodded. “Yeah.”

And now it wouldn’t just be them. A little rebellion that had started on this roof between the two of them had grown so big that now everything was starting over and everyone was in the middle of it.

The only way out was through, and it would be a long walk, but JD felt settled, sure, that they would be able to get there eventually.

For the moment though, he leaned into Veronica to watch the sun rise.


End file.
